Beauty in the Breakdown
by disconnectedsoul
Summary: Rachel's having a hard time. It's not easy being a teenage girl, especially when you're in love with your best friend's mom.   Rachel/Quinn, Rachel/Beth friendship
1. Unrequited

**Author's Note: Ok, so the general idea for this story came from ****californiagirlie's ****fic and everyone should go and read it, ****Storm Before the Calm,**** because it's awesome and my inspiration to write this story. So here goes nothing, hope you guys like it. **

**Disclaimer: I own zero parts of Glee.**

Rachel can't look away. Her eyes must have a mind of their own because no matter how many times she tells herself to stop, she keeps on glancing sideways, towards the kitchen.

There are words coming out of her best friend's mouth, lots of words, but she keeps on forgetting to listen. It's impossible when every follicle, every nerve, every muscle in her body is on edge, struggling to control urges they're not allowed to have.

Rachel Berry is kind of a control freak; the entire William McKinley student body knows that. What they don't know is how deep it runs or how much she depends on control to survive. She's been teetering on the edge of sanity for months now and self-control is the only thing that's keeping her ok.

"Rach, are you listening to me?"

Rachel's eyes snap back to her best friend's sour expression. "Of course, Beth" she lies.

Beth stares at her for a moment, irritation pulling at her features. Rachel holds her breath in anticipation, wondering if she's about to suffer the wrath of her best friend's formidable temper. A few seconds go by and Beth's face returns to normal. She exhales a little and runs a hand through her long, sable hair "Well c'mon then, which one do you want to watch?"

She has no idea what this statement means but decides to keep going with her lie. "The first one, definitely." She nods decisively, hoping she's credibly contributing to whatever conversation they had been having.

"Really? I though you hated scary movies. But ok, Texas Chainsaw Massacre it is. Let me just run up to my room and grab it. Put some popcorn in the microwave, okay? It's in the pantry."

Rachel's eyes flick once more to the kitchen and then to the ground. "Y-yes, of course," she says quietly but Beth is already bounding up the stairs two at a time so she's talking to nobody.

Taking a deep breath, Rachel stands up. It's a strange sensation for her to be able to act on one of her impulses. Every step towards the kitchen feels wrong and she's finding it hard to execute normal functions like putting one foot in front of the other or remembering to breathe. She catches a flash of blonde disappearing around a corner and suddenly everything is easier.

Taking a bag of popcorn out of the pantry, she puts it in the microwave and sets the timer before taking a step back. Seconds pass at the speed of dripping molasses.

Thirty seconds to go and Rachel is breathing normally again. She's back in control. "Honey, you really shouldn't stand in front of the microwave like that." The combination of the familiar voice and a warm hand on her shoulder shatters Rachel to pieces.

Unable to suppress her loud gasp, Rachel clamps her hands over her mouth as she whips around. And there she is, Beth's Mom, the only person with the ability to send Rachel's world spinning completely off its' axis. The older woman stands there for a moment, an apologetic look upon her face. And Rachel just stares at her, finding it impossible to look away.

"I'm so sorry Rachel, I didn't mean to scare you." The blonde's hand is still on her shoulder and she gives it a small squeeze accompanied by a smile that drenches the younger girl in warmth. Rachel wonders how this woman can't feel the way her heart lurches at the smile, how her insides melt at the sight of her? It's embarrassing how big her love has become.

"It's…it's fine Ms…" Rachel stops. She never knows what to call Beth's Mom. Beth's last name is Puckerman but that's her Dad's last name and he hasn't really been in the picture for years.

"Please, I've told you before, call me Quinn. Ms. Fabray makes me feel old." She chuckles. Quinn, the most perfect name in the entire existence of the world. Rachel managed a smile of her own, her hand finding a strand of her own long, chestnut hair and twirling it nervously between her fingers. "So, how's school going? Beth tells me you girls are going to give a fantastic performance at the New Directions concert tomorrow night."

Rachel wants to answer but finds herself caught up, first in the caramel flecks of her irises and then the soft pout of her lips. Quinn clears her throat lightly bringing the brunette back to reality. "The concert, yes…that." The beating in her chest is becoming unbearable, a heavy ache that's starting to make her dizzy. "It's gonna be good, really good, great even."

Quinn's nodding her head patiently and Rachel thinks that she must be true to life saint for plodding through their painful conversation. "Beth said your solo is amazing."

For a split second Rachel feels like herself. "Which one? They're all executed with a tremendous amount of vocal technique if I do say so myself and of course, my stage presence is never something to be taken lightly." As soon as the words are out of her mouth she fells like an ass. Sure she likes to brag about herself sometimes and as much as she wants Quinn to see something special in her, it doesn't feel like the right way to show it. "Um, I mean…I'm not THAT great or anything, it's just…" Rachel's grasping for words but the older woman's laughter saves her.

"There's nothing wrong with being confident in yourself Rachel. It's an admirable quality."

They're staring at each other once more and it's almost too much. Rachel feels everything in that moment, the rawness of her own desire, the pain of longing for something she'll never have and the fire that this woman sets in her heart. She feels the control slipping through her fingers as her body inadvertently leans into Quinn's touch. What if she did it? What if she just kissed her?

Suddenly a burning smell is stinging her nostrils. Confused, Rachel turns around. "The popcorn!" Quinn's voice is loud behind her and Rachel manages to step aside as the microwave door is ripped open and smoke billows out into the kitchen. Quinn grabs the bag, yelping in pain at the heat. The bag hits the floor and hundreds of blackened kernels spill across tile.

"Oh my God, are you ok?" Rachel rushes to Quinn's side, taking her hand and inspecting the burn. "I'm so sorry, this is all my fault." Her hands are slender, delicate and Rachel furrows her brow at the sight of an angry red burn on her palm. "All my fault," she mutters. She leads the older woman over to the sink and turns the sink on, hesitating before guiding her hand under the gentle stream of water. Quinn's hiss of pain goes through her like a blade slicing at her insides.

"Holy shit, what happened down here?" Beth is in the doorway, her eyes widened in surprise as a smirk pulls at her lips. "It looks like a popcorn bomb went off in this place." She tries to suppress her laughter.

"Beth don't swear." Quinn's voice is softer than before. There's some emotion in there that Rachel can't quite place.

Then Rachel realizes what she's doing. She's washing her best friend's Mom's hand for her. Not only is she treating the woman like a five year old but she's completely overstepping personal boundaries. Oh God. She lets the hand go immediately; taking three steps back from Quinn and the sink. "I'm so sorry." She says again and it's almost hard to keep track of how many things she's apologizing for.

"Nonsense, accidents happen." Quinn's voice sounds normal again and Rachel ventures a glance at her. Her beautiful hazel eyes are too soft as they gaze down at her. To Rachel, it looks like pity and the thought of that stings worse than salt to an open wound.

"Riiiight, anyways, Rachel I got the movie. We don't really need popcorn."

"Um, you know, I think I'm actually going to go home now. I…I forgot that my Dad's asked me to help them with this thing this afternoon." Rachel can't stand to be there for another second. The woman she's in love with thinks she's a complete lunatic and pities her because of it. She didn't have a chance in hell with Quinn before and now the odds were simply tragic.

"C'mon, the one time I get you to watch a scary movie and you're gonna bail? That's bullshit, Rach."

"Beth, language." Rachel doesn't dare to look at Quinn again.

"I'm sorry Beth, I really need to go. I'll see you tomorrow night though, ok?"

Beth sighs. "Fine, whatever. See you later."

Rachel hurries to the door and leaves before she can cause any more damage. Getting in her car, she waits until she's a block down the street before she starts to cry. She's so damn tired. Tired of feeling so helpless, tired of embarrassing herself day in and day out, tired of treating her best friend like shit.

"Quinn will never happen." She hopes saying it out loud will make her stubborn heart believe it. But nothing changes. Her heart still feels like an anvil that's weighing down her entire body and she can still think of nothing but long blonde hair and hazel eyes.


	2. Coming Undone

**Author's Note: Thanks for all of the positive reviews guys! Here's chapter two. **

"Don't move, ok?" Rachel nods earning a light smack on the side of her head from Beth. They're in the bathroom at school getting ready for the New Directions concert and Beth is doing her make-up. "Dammit girl, what did I just say?"

"Sorry." Rachel bites her lip to stop herself from giggling.

"You're the one who's gonna be sorry if this eyeliner pencil ends up getting stuck in your eye." Beth smiles, chuckling slightly.

"Hey, if I can't laugh than neither can you!" This is what Rachel loves about Beth. Drama between them rolls off the girl like rain from the windshield of a moving car. This time it had been Rachel who left things on a weird note but Beth showed up to her house the next day all the same, ready to carpool to the concert like nothing had happened. There was a rare strength to their friendship that Rachel cherished more than almost anything.

"Alright, now look right at me while I put this stuff on." Rachel obeys. She stares into Beth's eyes, the same eyes she's know since middle school but suddenly everything is different. It's funny because she had never noticed much of a resemblance between Beth and her mother before. Their only similarity had been that they were both beautiful but in such different ways, like night and day. Now Rachel sees it. She sees it the sickeningly familiar golden flecks of Beth's hazel gaze and she can't believe she's never noticed before. "Are you ok, Rach? You don't look so hot."

"Gee t-thanks" Rachel manages to recover, pretending to be hurt.

"No, you know what I mean. You look kind of sick." Beth stops and Rachel hears a slight intake of breath. "Could it be that Rachel Berry is actually nervous before a concert? Damn, never thought I'd see the day." Rachel's about to protest that such a thing is preposterous but Beth continues. "It would explain why you've been acting so weird lately…."

She's never had stage fright a day in her life but it's an easier label to stomach than the truth. Recently Rachel's been fighting with herself over telling Beth everything but she always stops at the last second. Rachel Berry couldn't like girls. It just didn't fit into her life. And this was Lima, Ohio, girls weren't like that. Of course, with that point she'd always argue with herself that she didn't even like girls plural, just one girl, not even a girl really, a woman. But that didn't matter since this one woman was her best friend's mom. Beth would never understand.

"Stage fright, yeah, you got me Beth. This concert is, it's you know, the last one before regionals where things get really serious and I don't know, I finally feel the pressure of it all I guess…"

"I get it, Mr. Shue puts so much pressure on you to carry us through. It's not fair." Beth steps back to inspect her own work. "Damn I'm good. You look hot, Rach."

Rachel smiles at her weakly. She inspects herself in the mirror but doesn't see someone beautiful at all, just a liar.

The girls make their way to the choir room where everyone is starting to warm-up. They're about to enter when someone calls Beth's name.

"Hey Beth, baby hey!" There's a man jogging down the hallway towards them that Rachel's never seen before. He's handsome, tall and broad-shouldered with short dark hair and a charming smile.

"Dad!" Beth lets out an uncharacteristic shriek of delight and rushes into the man's arms, allowing him to pick her up and swing her around for a moment. When he sets her down, Beth turns to Rachel, still clinging tight to her dad. "Rachel, this is my Dad. Dad, this is Rachel."

Beth's Dad extends his free hand to her, which Rachel shakes, offering a polite smile. "It's nice to meet you Mr. Puckerman."

"Please, call me Noah. It's nice to finally meet the infamous best friend, I've heard a ton about you Rachel."

Beth and Noah begin to chat away and Rachel just watches in awe. It's almost freaky how similar father and daughter are. They have the same dark hair; the same mischievous smile and glint behind their eyes and that same irresistible magnetism. She even recognizes the same inflections she's used to hearing from Beth in the way that Noah talks.

"Alright girls, let's go. We're gonna do a final warm-up and then it's show time!" Mr. Shue beckons them both back inside the choir room.

"Good luck Beth, I'll be cheering you on baby. You too Rachel!" He gives Beth one last hug before leaving.

"Oh my God, Rachel, I can't believe my Dad actually came!" Beth's smile is wider than Rachel can ever remember seeing it.

"That's great Beth. I'm so glad I finally got to meet him."

"Yeah, it's kind of crazy that you had never met him before considering how long we've been friends. It's just; he gets bored staying in one place for too long, you know, so he takes different jobs all over the country. We talk on the phone and stuff but he rarely comes back to Lima." At that Rachel detects a hint of bitterness in her voice. "Can't say I blame him though, this town is a shithole. And it's not like him and my Mom are even together…" Rachel wants to say something to comfort her but Mr. Shue is yelling for everyone to get in their places on the risers so she can't.

Warm-ups fly by and it feels like only seconds have passed before New Directions is taking the stage. Rachel squints at the brightness of the lights, allowing her eyes to adjust. Beth takes her hand and squeezes it lightly. "Don't be nervous, you're amazing." She whispers before letting her hand go as she takes her place.

Rachel smiles at the gesture, mouthing a thank you. If only Beth knew how wrong she was. In this moment Rachel feels better than she has in months. The stage is her second home. Under the spotlight there's no room to linger on messy feelings or utter teenaged confusion. This is the world she's grown up in, the one that brings out the best in her, the one she understands completely.

Mr. Shue signals her and Rachel nods, stepping forward from her peers, taking center stage. The initial applause of the audience has died down now and her eyes have finally adjusted. Like she does before every concert, Rachel scans the audience for her Dads.

She's about halfway across the auditorium when a certain blonde catches her eye. Fuck. Rachel wants to scream. Of course she would be able to pick out Quinn in an audience of over one hundred people. She looks beautiful, even from far away, her perfect lips curved into that familiar smile. And for the first time Rachel actually is nervous to perform because Quinn is watching her. She has what she's been dreaming of for months, the complete and undivided attention of the woman she loves. It's awful.

Rachel swallows hard, trying to re-focus her mind. What's the first song? She can't remember for the life of her. Glancing sideways at the accompaniment Rachel sees them starting to play. The familiar beginning chords of "Take A Bow" come on and she breathes a sigh of relief. "Everything is going to be fine," she tells herself. All the same she can't stop looking at Quinn. Again. It's like the woman has a spell cast over her. It's ok though because that's nothing new. She can still perform.

And then she notices it. First it's just a hand that's touching Quinn's upper arm and Rachel frowns because that doesn't make any sense. Then the hand turns into an arm that's draped about her shoulders. From there Rachel's eyes follow the arm to the body connected to it, seated in the chair beside Quinn. Noah Puckerman's face stares back her.

Feeling blooms so rapidly in the pit of her stomach that Rachel almost doubles over from the sudden pain. It feels like jealousy, hurt and desire all wrapped up in one and magnified a thousand times.

"Rachel!" A harsh whisper from somewhere behind her brings Rachel back to reality. She turns to see Mr. Shue frantically motioning to her. It's then that she realizes how silent everything is. The piano has stopped playing. Everyone is looking at her like she's just grown a beard in front of their eyes. Her heart starts beating and for one irrational second she thinks everyone some how found out about her secret. Turning her head back to the audience, back to Quinn, she studies the expression on the blonde's face. Her eyes brows are scrunched and she looks concerned.

Concerned? That's wrong. Rachel knows Quinn would be disgusted if she knew the truth so it can't be that. Then she realizes. She forgot to come in. Rachel Berry messed up a song. No wonder everyone looks dumbfounded. Masking her horror, Rachel clears her throat and gracefully signals the pianist to begin again. Looking out into the audience, she plasters a smile onto her face and begins to sing.

The concert ends and Rachel can't get off the stage fast enough. She's rushing into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. The tears she's been holding back burst forth from her eyes, streaming down her cheeks in fountains. She's so damn tired of crying but doesn't know of any alternative. Watching Quinn with Noah was like torture. It was one thing to pine over someone you could never have but it was quite another to see someone else get her so easily, without barely batting an eyelash. Rachel wipes at her tears with the backs of her hands, breathing deeply and shaking her head.

The door to the bathroom opens and Beth walks in. "Rach, you ok?"

Rachel bends down, turning the faucet on and splashing water over her reddened eyes. "Y-yes, I'm fine."

"It's ok, you know. It was barely a mistake. We only made a big deal about it because it was so unlike you. The rest of your parts were flawless, as usual."

Clearing her throat as she rights herself once more, Rachel looks at Beth. "It won't happen again" is all she says.

"I know. Now come on, let's get out of here." Beth takes her hand and leads her out of the bathroom. They're at the entrance about to push open the doors when they're interrupted.

"Beth, where're you going baby?" Noah grabs her, pulling her into a hug. "God, you guys were so awesome! And Rachel, you really got a set of pipes on you."

Rachel barely manages a half-smile, nodding her thanks. She thinks God must love to torture her. Does it ever end?

"You're bummed about that mess up huh," Noah continues. "Don't worry about that little thing. It was barely noticeable and then you just went and knocked the rest of it outta the park. I mean really…"

Quinn interrupts him, touching Rachel's arm to get her attention. "Truly Rachel, you're amazing. You have a real gift."

Despite everything Rachel can't help but melt at her words. But at the same time the image of Noah's arm around Quinn is burned into her mind. "Thank you," she replies curtly, holding eye contact for only a fraction of a second.

"Oh Beth, I almost forgot, you're gonna love this. Guess who's currently the owner of a 69 Chevy Camaro?" Noah pulls keys out of his pocket, jingling them.

"No way, Dad! That's sick!"

"C'mon let me take you on a celebratory drive."

"Right now? Dad I'd love to but I can't. I've gotta drive Rachel home."

Rachel can see how much Beth wants to go. She's always had a thing for muscle cars and time with her Dad was like a precious metal. "No Beth, don't worry about me. My Dads can just give me a ride."

"Really Rach? Thanks so much! I'll see you later." Beth hugs her and then heads off with her parents, who also bid her farewell.

It's then that Rachel realizes that she never saw her Dads in the audience. Of course, she had been pretty preoccupied the whole time. She figures they must have had to leave early for some reason.

"Well that's just great." Rachel pushes the entrance door open and steps out into the night. It's chilly and she shivers a little, rubbing her bare arms. Her house isn't too far away but it's enough of a trek to be disheartening.

She begins to walk across the parking lot, humming aloud to keep her mind off the cold. The sound of a horn behind her causes Rachel to jump. A slightly familiar blue Toyota Corolla pulls up beside her. The driver's window rolls down and Rachel finds herself looking at Quinn. "Rachel, do you need a ride?"

Rachel stares at her. She doesn't know how to make herself learn. Looking at Quinn only leads to bad things. Rachel opens her mouth, the syllables for no already formed. She just wants to be done with it all, find a nice boy to like who can like her back. She wants normal, aches for it. But the damage is done and Quinn's hazel eyes draw her in and trap her like a spider's web. All she can do is nod her head and get in the car.


	3. The Longest Night part 1

**Author's Note: Here's Chapter 3, enjoy!**

Rachel's stomach aches for all the wrong reasons. It SHOULD be because she's just messed up during a solo for the first time in her entire life. Or because her Dads aren't there to comfort her. Or even because she's just remembered the in-class presentation she has to give tomorrow in English class.

Instead it aches because she's only a foot away from the woman she's completely, desperately, hopelessly in love with. It aches because the sweet smell of Quinn's lilac perfume is burning in her nostrils and making her dizzy from inhaling so much. It aches because her insides are about to burst from the pent-up desire that rumbles in the deepest chambers of her heart.

The seatbelt cuts roughly across her neck and Rachel shifts sideways, pulling at the contraption while subtly sneaking a glance over at the driver's seat. Quinn's lips are pursed in concentration, her eyes focused on the road with the precision of an excellent driver. Rachel thinks, knows, she could contentedly stare at her for the rest of her life and wish for nothing more. It's almost funny how everything else has seemed to fall away. Singing doesn't mean as much, schoolwork is feeling more and more like a burden and the few friendships she has are all starting to fall by the wayside. It has to be almost funny because otherwise Rachel's sure it would be almost tragic instead.

"So Rachel, are you happy with how the concert went tonight? It really was fantastic."

Quinn's voice jerks Rachel from her thoughts. She furrows her eyebrows, taking a moment before she speaks. Still afraid to look the blonde in the eye again, Rachel chooses to look forward at the road. "Well…my mistake tonight during my first solo was unforgivable. Hopefully I'll at least learn something from it so that I can avoid such an occurrence in the future. So, no I guess, I'm not happy with how the concert went at all. In fact, I would even go so far as to say that it was the worst concert I've ever performed in." Rachel doesn't mean to say all that but the truth just tumbles out of her mouth like an avalanche of rocks.

Embarrassed, she turns away to the passenger window. Each modest Lima house is identical to the one before and in the darkness it feels like passing the same one over and over again. Rachel's reminded of why she wants so desperately to leave this simple, sad little town. In New York City everything would be different. People would appreciate her talent, embrace her for it. The buildings would all climb towards the sky, higher and higher, coming in shapes and sizes that she couldn't even dream up. There would be no slushies, no bitchy cheerleaders, no neanderthal jocks and no Quinn Fabray. Rachel couldn't decide whether she loved or hated the last part. It didn't matter anyways. Leaving wouldn't be possible if she kept on messing up. Broadway accepts nothing but the best. She thumps her head against the window, a fresh wave of anger overtaking her.

"You're so hard on yourself."

Rachel turns to find Quinn looking at her. The older woman is wearing the same concerned look from earlier in the night. "I...I'm sorry?"

The car pulls over to the side of the road coming to a complete stop. Shifting the car into park Quinn turns in her seat and leans towards the brunette. Rachel's still having a hard time meeting Quinn's gaze but she knows it's rude not to. As a compromise she leans as far away from the blonde has possible, the car door pressing roughly into her back.

"I said that you're too hard on yourself, Rachel. It pains me to see you like this, really it does." Quinn sighs in frustration, pushing back a loose strand of her golden hair before continuing. "I just, I can't even begin to understand how someone as gifted as you could be so oblivious. Hearing you singing tonight, you're, you're just unbelievable. I can honestly say I've never met a more talented person in my life."

Rachel is speechless. She sits there, subtly pinching the skin on her arm to make sure this isn't just another one of her daydreams. No, it's real. Quinn Fabray is actually praising her.

"So you messed up for a fraction of a second. Don't let your mistakes define you, ok?" Rachel's mouth almost drops as Quinn reaches over and takes a hand in her own. The warmest sensation blooms in that hand, moving up Rachel's arm and spreading across her entire body. "Lord knows if I kept punishing myself for all of the mistakes I've made in the past I probably wouldn't be here today."

Rachel can't imagine Quinn having stepped out of line a day in her good Christian life and wants to ask her about it but when she opens her mouth all that comes out is a meek "ok." She can feel goose bumps erupting all over and for a moment she can't stop herself from shivering.

Quinn notices as once. "I'm sorry are you cold? I can turn the heat up if you like."

She finally finds her voice. "No, no I'm fine, don't worry about it. My house is just up one block and to the left anyways."

"Oh…ok." Quinn shakes her head as if she'd been in a trance and just come back to reality. Releasing Rachel's hand, she puts the car back in drive and pulls back onto the road.

Rachel touches the back of her hand to her cheek. It's burning up and she's thankful for the cover of darkness. Her mind feels like it's clearing from a haze as the chills slowly subside. Apparently Quinn affected her body just as much as her mind. Rachel groans inwardly. Was she twelve? Who gets that heated over holding someone's hand? But still… There was something about the moment that had struck her as off. It wasn't so much what Quinn had told her as it was the way she had said it. Something about her tone. Parents didn't talk to their kids' friends the way Quinn just talked to her. Did they? It had felt more like encouragement from a friend rather than from a parent. It was probably just all in her head though. After tonight Rachel knows she can't trust her own mind so easily anymore. Quinn makes her thoughts scrambled, flipping everything she thinks she knows upside-down and tripping up her focus.

They finally turn onto Rachel's street. "Uh…Quinn? I just…um, thank you for the compliments and the advice. Oh and for the ride of course! I'm just, uh, feeling the pressure right now I guess. Sectionals are coming up and I just want to do well so badly."

"I know you do. I know how much glee club means to you and to Beth. I get it." Beth, right. Her best friend. Rachel realizes she hasn't thought about her once during the car ride and she certainly hasn't thought about how Quinn is Beth's mom. That wasn't good. "And you girls should really…." Quinn trails off for a moment. "Oh no!"

At first Rachel doesn't understand but then she sees the flashing red lights. There's an ambulance parked on the side of the road. Her heart starts to beat rapidly and a sudden fear takes hold of her body. "That's my house. Oh my God, that's my house!" Rachel rips her seatbelt off, pushing he door open and taking off for her house at a speed she didn't know she was capable of.

"What? Rachel wait!"

"Daddy!" Rachel's yelling and as she gets closer she sees her front door open and a stretcher rolls out, led by two EMTs. "Daddy!" One of her fathers' is on the stretcher and the other rushes out of the house. She finally reaches them, slowing to walk along side the stretcher. His eyes are closed and he's not moving.

As they lift him into the ambulance Rachel feels her other father at her side. "D-daddy, what happened?" Her voice is small and barely audible.

"I don't know, baby. I really don't." Of her two Dads, Henry is the calm, collected one. He always knows what to say and how to put Rachel at ease. But this time is different. He's a complete mess and it's scaring the hell out of her. "One minute Paul as fine, getting ready for your concert. I was down stairs and I kept on calling him and calling him because we were gonna be late and I wanted to see you. I went upstairs and he had collapsed. They're saying he had a heart attack but, but he's only forty. I just don't understand." Her father pulls her in for a hug and it's the first of its kind, a desperate, grasping hug, like the world doesn't make sense him anymore.

"Mr. Berry, we need to leave." The EMT is beckoning him over.

"My daughter's coming with us too."

"I'm sorry Mr. Berry, we can't allow that. Only one family member is allowed to accompany your husband."

"Go, just go Dad. I'll be fine." Rachel pushes her father back, towards the ambulance. Tears are streaming down her cheeks now to the point where the whole world is just a blurred mess.

"She'll stay with us." Quinn is behind her now, her hand touching Rachel's shoulder.

Mr. Berry nods. "I'll call you as soon as I know anything sweetie."

Rachel watches both of her parents disappear behind the ambulance doors and then follows the red lights and loud blare of the sirens until the sound is only a faint whisper in the night.

"Oh my God. Oh my God." Her body is shaking. Turning, she falls into Quinn's arms like it's the most natural thing in the entire world. Sobbing heavily against her chest, Rachel is grateful for the protective arms that wrap around her. Quinn slowly lowers them both the grass. She lets Rachel lean against her, rubbing gentle circles against her back.

Rachel cries and cries, so many tears she's surprised her body hasn't dried up until finally, mercifully, her world goes dark.


	4. The Longest Night part 2

**Author's Note: Here's chapter 4, enjoy! And I'm really sorry it took me so long to update!**

When Rachel comes to she's in a car. Her body is awkwardly toppled in the passenger seat, like she's some toy doll that a child's just abandoned. Blinking a few times, she tries to sit up but finds the task impossible. All her strength is gone, drained away and Rachel imagines it lying in a shimmering puddle somewhere on her front lawn. Luckily she doesn't have to move so much as an inch to figure out where she is. Through the windshield, weary eyes catch the perpetual flicker of a porch lamp and a striped awning the colors of a barbershop pole. Beth's house has never looked more inviting.

It's then that foggy memories of the night return to her, though they seem more like snapshots from someone else's life, a life too complicated and distressing to be her own. When she closes her eyes she can see the ambulance lights, harsh and glaring on the back of her eyelids. She watches the vehicle disappear into the night once more and as though the memory is borrowed from a stranger, she see's herself collapse into Quinn's arms. The blonde must have carried her to the car because Rachel doesn't remember getting up from the grass.

Rachel's about to try and sit up again when the passenger door opens and she's bathed in harsh overhead light. Squinting, she attempts to turn her head but it feels so heavy. "Q-Quinn?"

"I'm here Rachel. I'm going to help you get out of the car, ok?" Her voice is soft but reassuring. The brunette manages to give the slightest of nods. Quinn reaches into the car and gently begins to pull Rachel towards her. Rachel's arms are like two dead weights at her sides but she fights to lift them, wrapping them around Quinn's neck for balance as she's hoisted out of the car. She tries to stand on her own but stumbles, falling flush against Quinn's body.

Her head lands against Quinn's chest and she feels the older woman's intake of breath. She can hear her heartbeat. The steady thrum is deep and reassuring against her ear. It lulls her into a numb, temporary peace.

The pair casts an awkward shadow on the pavement as they make their way to the front door. Quinn shifts Rachel to her side, supporting most of her weight as Rachel teeters over the pavement like a newborn foal.

Drained of all energy, Rachel feels as though she's stumbling through a dream. The lights are too bright and everything beyond a foot in front of her blurs with a dizzying force. She molds herself to Quinn as though the blonde were rescuing her from drowning and in a way, she is. Quinn struggles to open the screen door and pull them both inside the warmth of the house. She's almost in when the door bangs hard against Rachel's arm. If the older woman hadn't gasped Rachel was sure she wouldn't have reacted at all. She didn't feel it, can't feel anything.

"I'm so sorry Rachel!" Quinn eases her onto the couch in the living room before taking her arm in her hands to inspect it. It reminds Rachel of the popcorn incident. Could that have only been two days ago? How was that possible? It feels like a lifetime ago. Looking down at her arm Rachel notices a bruise that the door must have made. It marbles her skin shades of deep purple.

"Don't worry." Her own voice sounds like it's coming from far away, as though her real self is locked away in some deep chamber below the earth, barely managing to be heard and all of this is just some hazy dream. She glides her fingers across the glaring purple. She can't feel it. After a few seconds she pushes into the skin. Still nothing.

"Stop it Rachel." Quinn pulls Rachel's hand away, clasping it in her own. She looks so worried.

"Don't worry," she repeats. Rachel stares at Quinn's downturned mouth for a moment. For some reason she's finding it hard to keep the blonde in focus. Her eyes shift up to Quinn's eyes, blinking a few times to bring her back into focus. "I can't feel anything."

"D-do you want to lay down?"

Rachel smiles at the stuttering in Quinn's voice. For once she's the one that's calm. It doesn't matter that the circumstances are completely messed up. She shakes her head at Quinn's request. She decides in that moment that she must be in a dream because never before has she been the composed one. It's strange dream, she thinks but at least Quinn is in it. "I'm glad you're here" Rachel says absently. She looks at Quinn then, really looks at her. It's the first time she's had the time to appreciate the blonde and because it's her dream she doesn't feel awkward about it.

Quinn turns her head, blushing slightly at the intensity of the younger girl's gaze. Her deep brown eyes look upon her as those of a half-crazed animal that wants to devour her. It's uncomfortable to Quinn but more than that it's terrifying because she can't quite grasp the feelings that Rachel's dark eyes stir within her.

As Rachel drinks in the blonde it become increasingly clear to her that this woman isn't just beautiful, she's a work of art. Botticelli himself couldn't have painted a more perfectly bridged nose or a lovelier set of lips. The hands of Michelangelo had never sculpted anything such as the soft curves of her hips. And for all the beautiful women Da Vinci had given the world, none were ever so fair as the one that sits before her now. She knows this with the same painful clarity of one who's foreseen their own death and her suffering feels just as deep.

Her eye catches the burn from the popcorn. Though no longer as bold, an angry red scar still mars Quinn's golden skin. Before she can even think about it, Rachel reaches out and lets the tips of her fingers run over the skin on Quinn's hand. The scar itself is all raised tissue and Rachel finds it oddly thrilling to the touch. Eventually though, she gets bored and her fingers wander up Quinn's forearm, reveling in silky feel of her. She's like a child, touching whatever she wants with no thoughts of consequence.

"Rachel..." Quinn's brow is furrowed; eyes concentrated on Rachel's hand as it moves like a creature entirely independent of the brunette. But she does nothing to stop it. She tries to meet Rachel's gaze only to find the girl's eyes heavy lidded, her long eyelashes nearly brushing her cheeks. It's as though Rachel wants to savor every inch of her, commit her to memory like she's the most important scripture on earth.

"Your skin is the softest thing I've ever felt," Rachel murmurs, her voice a husky tremor that goes right to the pit of Quinn's stomach. Her hand is at the top of Quinn's shoulder now, moving up her bare neck and only stopping once it's cupping her cheek. Involuntarily Quinn's body has leaned into Rachel's touch and now their faces are only inches apart.

"Rachel." Quinn wants to be calm but she can't stop her voice from coming out a little desperate. Her brain is torn in so many directions at this point that common sense seems to have lost all its' authority. Rachel had just suffered a traumatic experience so she's obviously not herself. Quinn doesn't want to shatter the girl. Yes, that's it. That's why she hasn't pushed her away yet. Not because her touch is hypnotizing. Not because her heart is beating out of her chest and it's the first time she's felt alive in years.

Rachel's eyes trace the blonde's lips hungrily. Months of pent up frustration are pushing her closer to them but then there's something's stopping her. She's not quite sure what it is. After all, it's her dream. If there's one place she should be allowed to take what she wants, it's here. And yet…it still feels like crossing the line, like her world will fall to pieces once she's done it. She sighs. "If I do this…everything will change."

"Do what?' Quinn's breathtaking eyes are darting back and forth as she looks at Rachel.

She can't be serious. At first Rachel thinks she must have heard wrong but the confusion on Quinn's face speaks otherwise. Their noses are practically touching one another. Rachel's hand cups Quinn's face in a way no girl's should ever do to her best friend's mother. What else could she possibly think was going on? Rachel's shock is sobering and the world seems a little less hazy because of it. Dreams don't make people feel the way she feels right now, sinking, suffocating under the immense weight of truth. Quinn will never like, let alone love her back. Quinn doesn't even recognize Rachel's feelings when she's seconds away from kissing her. It's not a nightmare either because Rachel's not scared. She's not even angry. Her insides are as numb as her outsides now. The sound of a car pulling into the driveway settles it. Rachel understands that she's not dreaming at all. Her hand falls back to her side and with it her mind seems to clear, at least enough for her to put some distance between them.

"Rachel, what's going on?' Quinn's face is still the picture of confusion. Rachel almost wants to laugh at her, bitterly and loud. Perching on the far edge of the couch, as faraway from the blonde as possible, Rachel feels pain again. Her mind conjures the image of her father being wheeled into the ambulance on that gurney, his body frail and unmoving. She can feel her father's tears again, dripping from the bridge of his long nose onto her cheeks like they're pretending to be her own.

"I, I don't know" she said finally. "I just feel…messed up." Her arms curl around one of the couch pillows and she hugs it close to her in a vice grip. Brown eyes keep opening and closing because she can't decide which makes it worse.

Quinn stares on helplessly, too afraid to approach the brunette again. She's not afraid of Rachel but of herself, though she doesn't really know why. The front door swings open then, Beth and Noah bursting in on them. Their laughter is so loud it overpowers the small room. But at the sight of Quinn and Rachel both go silent, immediately sensing something isn't right.

Beth rushes to Rachel's side, tentatively reaching out and touching her shoulder. "Rachel, what happened?"

Rachel looks up at her best friend. It's so hard for her to look into her eyes. And it's not even because usually all she can see in them is Quinn. Her shame digs a deep hole in her chest. If Beth knew what Rachel had almost done, what she wants to do still… Her mind switches between her two crises so seamlessly it's terrifying. She realizes that Beth isn't talking about what happened between her and Quinn at all. Fresh thoughts of her Dad bring a new wave of tears to her eyes. "My Dad…" She can't say anything else, words dissolving into heaving sobs that pull violently at her body.

Beth's arms are around her almost immediately. Details don't matter. Seeing her best friend in pain is enough. If it's even possible, Rachel is worse in her embrace. She can feel herself going down, like she's descending into a cave, suspended by only a string that's unraveling by the second. It's lower than she's ever been. And for the life of her, Rachel has no idea where she'll find the strength to climb back up.


	5. Achingly Beautiful

**Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews and support for this story! It really means so much to me. Enjoy the next chapter!**

Beth's bed is all down feathers and soft cotton. Rachel sinks into the mattress and as the comforter puffs around her body she wishes for it to swallow her whole, like a pit of quicksand. She even shuts her eyes for a moment, squeezing them tight and offering a prayer up to whoever happens to be in charge.

"Are you gonna be ok tonight Rach?' Beth's weight dips the mattress. Opening her eyes again, she stares up at her best friend and gives the most convincing nod she can. "Because I can stay here with you if you want. You know how much our guest bedroom gives me the creeps."

Rachel smiles weakly at the joke. "No, it's ok. If it's alright with you Beth, I think I'd rather sleep alone tonight."

"Of course, of course." Beth awkwardly rises from the bed, shuffling over to the doorway. "I'll just get out of your hair."

"Could you turn off the light please?"

"Yeah Rach, no problem. Good night."

But Rachel can't sleep. As hard as she tries her body remains wide awake, able to think of nothing but her Father lying in some hospital bed, sick and terrified. It's driving her insane.

Turning over for the millionth time she checks the clock. 3:47 am. There's no use trying anymore. Sitting up, Rachel throws the covers off and swings her legs over the side of the bed. She creeps down the stairs, wary of creeks at each step. Opening the door she closes it softly behind her before turning around. Rachel sucks in the cold night air and wraps her arms around herself, tilting her head back to the sky.

The stars loom high above, thousands of gilded orbs. Rachel wants to get lost in them, wrap herself up in a dark blanket of glittering sky and never look back. Her father's condition, her feelings for Quinn. It was too much feeling for a seventeen-year-old girl to handle, wasn't it? Rachel wishes someone could explain why she was being punished in this way.

The door opens suddenly behind her, causing Rachel to jump. Quinn's blonde head appears, her hazel eyes heavy with sleep. "I thought I heard someone come out here."

Rachel's heart continues to beat rapidly even as her surprise wears off. Such is the effect Quinn Fabray has on her. But she's too tired, too drained to truly give in to it. Instead she turns around and continues to look at the stars, leaning against the wooden rail of the porch. "I'm truly sorry that I woke you up. I just…couldn't manage to sleep."

"Don't worry about it. I don't sleep much these days either." Quinn moves to join Rachel, her elbows resting easily against the porch rail.

"And why is that?" Rachel couldn't imagine anything bothering perfect, puritanical Quinn Fabray enough to keep her up at night. "I-I'm sorry, never mind. I didn't mean to pry."

"No, it's ok. It's just stuff, I don't know. Regrets, unfulfilled plans, dreams I can't seem to let go of. Nothing that a young girl like you could really understand, you've still got your entire life ahead of you."

"You speak like your life is practically over" Rachel observes. "You're young, I'm sure you can still do all the things you want to."

"Maybe you're right Rachel. It's just, I don't feel that young anymore. Trust me, having a kid will do that to you. Not that I regret anything about Beth," Quinn says quickly. "I love her more than life itself. It's just…I wish I could have had more time, done it right, you know? Waited until I was older, out of college and married, the way things are supposed to be. I don't know, I've just been thinking about it a lot lately. And with Puck…Noah back, all the history between us that I've pushed down just comes rushing right back to the surface." Quinn sighs deeply, rubbing her temple. "I shouldn't be unloading all of this on you. It's not right, I'm sorry. And after all you've been through tonight, what is wrong with me?"

"No, no," Rachel was quick to disagree. "It's nice, actually. Listening to someone else's troubles makes me forget my own for a moment. Neither of us seems to be able to sleep anyways. Please, continue." Finally Rachel turns to face Quinn, looking at her as though for the first time. What she says is true, while Quinn has been talking Rachel hasn't thought of her Dad once. But there's more to it than that. She can't help but be enthralled, mesmerized as the blonde woman before her spills her heart with such abandon. She can't help but greedily lap up these secret parts of Quinn that she's being given and it's like all the sadness, all the insecurities beneath the woman's beautifully polished exterior just make Rachel love her more. She has to wonder if this is what it is to truly love another person.

There is a moment where Rachel isn't sure what's going to happen next. Quinn doesn't seem sure either, like she's halfway between leaving and pouring everything out until she's completely deflated. Quinn begins to back away but Rachel's hand is quick to stop her, reaching out and just barely touching her wrist. The pads of her fingers are a whisper on the older woman's skin but she stops like Rachel has her in an iron grip. They stare at one another for a moment and Rachel pleads with her eyes for all she's worth.

And Quinn succumbs.

They're still just barely touching when she begins to speak again. "Sometimes I feel…I feel like God is disappointed in me for some of the choices I've made. Ever since I was a little girl I've only ever wanted to live my life in a way that honors Him but I just can never seem to live up to it. If I'm not messing up one thing there's always another. I'm starting to think I'll never be able to, like I'm incapable and it and…it scares me so much." Quinn's eyes are on Rachel's, holding the brunette in what feels like a trance. The moment is so real, so tangible and sharp. It's the opposite of what their conversation on the couch had been only hours before. Rachel feels it in the clarity of cold air on her skin, the damp smell of the transition between late night and early morning and the wetness in Quinn's eyes that flickers like the stars above. Suddenly Rachel understands what people mean when they describe something as achingly beautiful.

She wants to do something, say the right words to comfort her or embrace her. Something. But she's afraid to move. Afraid that Quinn is this doe in the woods that she'll scare off if she's not quiet enough. So she rubs her thumb gently against the knuckles of Quinn's left hand. The movement is so slight it could be misconstrued as Rachel repositioning her thumb or working out a kink. Quinn could have very well not felt it at all. And then something happens. An act of fate so perfectly executed it feels devious. Rachel yawns. And the moment is over.

"It's late. It's so late." Quinn seems to come to her senses, eyes widening like she finally realizes where she is. "You should go to bed, I should too."

"Ok," Rachel says simply. She takes her hand off of the railing and turns to leave. Stopping as she opens the door she looks back at Quinn who is now staring up into the sky. "I'm sure my opinion doesn't mean much…but...you were there for me tonight. I needed somebody and you were there. I don't know much about God but I do know this. In my experience, there are not a lot of people out there willing to be as giving as you were to me. I think you're an amazing person and I can't imagine a God who's worth anything would think differently."

"Rachel…" Quinn, stares at her, speechless.

There's so much emotion swirling between them, the entire night's events seeming to culminate right then and there. In that moment Rachel's certain that she'll never love anyone or anything more than she does Quinn. All she wants to do is confess everything so that Quinn knows how much she cares and how much confiding in her only makes her feelings grow. It's overwhelming and Rachel can't help herself. Moving forward in a few brisk steps she's invading Quinn's space again, hands gently cupping the sides of her beautiful face. And then she does it. What she's been wanted to do the entire night and long before, the beacon of desire that manages to cut through pain, confusion and exhaustion. Rachel kisses Quinn Fabray.

It's barely a kiss, her lips just managing to brush Quinn's. Rachel doesn't think she could handle anything more. She tries to make the moment as big as she can, closing her eyes and savoring the softness of lips and the warmth radiating from Quinn's skin. An array of feelings twist around in her stomach and they're more intense than anything she's ever experienced before. Like something too good to be true, both heavenly and excruciating at the same time. Achingly beautiful.

Rachel doesn't allow Quinn the time to even think about kissing her back before pulling away. Hands still on Quinn's face, she needs a moment to remember where she is. The gravity of what she's done comes down on the brunette then. She's taken something that was never supposed to be hers, stolen it really. Quinn's face is blank, unreadable. It's only then that Rachel realizes she's ruined everything.

And so she does the only thing she can think to do. She flees. Back into the house, up the stairs and into Beth's bed. She pulls the covers over herself tight and squeezes her eyes shut, praying furiously for the entire night to have been some sort of terrible, terrible nightmare.


	6. Too Much

**Author's Note: I seriously love all the people who've given this story a chance and have taken the time to give me feedback. You guys are the best! In fact, I love you so much I made this chapter extra-long because there was a lot of plot I wanted to get through. Read and enjoy!**

The sun is just beginning to peak out of the earth, drawing pink and orange pastels across the sky. Rachel is extra careful when she shuts the front door behind her. Turning around, she surveys the porch of the Fabray home the way a soldier would an old battlefield. It looks so different now, daylight bathing the wood in golden light. It's hard for Rachel to picture Quinn and herself standing there only hours ago, listening, talking, kissing….

The memory is like an electric shock, pushing her off the porch and across the lawn at a brisk pace. As she walks down the street, the brunette pulls her phone out. She flirts with the idea of texting Beth. The decision to flee had come easily once Rachel realized that sleep was indefinitely avoiding her and she was sure that after what she had done, Quinn would be happy to avoid her as well. In her haste she has forgotten completely that Beth will wake up to find her missing.

If she's really being honest with herself, Rachel knows that she's not going to text her best friend for the same reason she didn't leave a note or wake Beth up before she left. She's ashamed. Embarrassed. Furious with herself. And the more she thinks about the kiss, the worse it gets. How could she have been so stupid? To throw everything away for one greedy memory, no bigger than a grain of sand? At least before she could still be near Quinn, love her quietly from afar. That was gone now, a privilege abused. What if Quinn told Beth and forbade her daughter from being friends with her? What if Quinn told Beth and Beth didn't want to be friends anymore because she was so disgusted? Rachel's entire body aches and she's not sure whose loss it feels more, her best friend or the woman she loves.

Rachel's so lost in thought that the hospital appears in front of her before she's ready for it. Gazing up at the gray building she tries to switch her Quinn problems off. In one of those windows her dad is lying on a bed, sick, in the scary kind of way. She needs to be strong now, for herself and for both of her Fathers. There's no room for anything more.

Once she's composed and swears not to break down the moment she gets inside, Rachel enters the building. There is a long series of hallways and elevators and nurses before she's standing outside her Dad's room, a nurse silent at her side like an ominous shadow. She feels a gentle push at her back and suddenly she's inside the room.

The shades are drawn so it's completely dark. Rachel can make out her Father lying in the hospital bed, asleep or unconscious she doesn't know which. Her other Father is at his side, slumped over in a chair having succumbed to an uneasy sleep. The only sound in the room is a harsh wheezing and that's when Rachel realizes that a machine is breathing for him now. Technology is the only thing keeping Paul Berry from dying. For a moment she is frozen, unable to tear her eyes from the sight of him. As her vision adjusts to the dark she can make out the awkward way his chest rises and falls. It's so mechanical, like a background electrical prop at one of those hokey haunted houses; the movement is too jerky to feel real. Her eyes fall to the still hand at his side that her other Father has clasped. Even as he shifts in his sleep the grasp is strong, unwavering and she knows he'll never let go.

She can't be there anymore. It's all too much. Her entire life has fallen to pieces and it only took one night to do it. Rachel backs out of the room slowly before breaking into a run. Ignoring the calls for her to stop and all the looks of alarm she gets, Rachel runs until she's back outside and the hospital building is only a backdrop in the distance. It's there that she doubles over and throws up. Only saliva that pools on the pavement because she can't remember the last time she ate any sort of food. Breathing heavily, she wipes her mouth on the back of her hand and sinks slowly to her knees.

"I don't know what to do." She says this aloud like God might take pity on her and reply.

A car pulls up beside her and beeps its' horn, God's answer. Rising to her feet in what feels like slow motion, Rachel turns. Behind the glare of the dashboard she sees a very puzzled Brittany S. Pierce staring back at her. "Rachel?" She mouths before opening her door and standing half out of her car. "Whatcha doin?"

Rachel gives Brittany as much of a smile as she can. Like most of McKinley High, Rachel is almost always at a loss when Brittany opens her mouth but all the same, she knows the girl is a kindhearted person, unlike her she-devil counterpart Santana, so she has a soft spot for her. "N-nothing Brittany, just taking a walk." Rachel turns away from her for a moment, discretely wiping away the remaining tears and spit from her face with a sleeve.

"I'll give you a ride to school! C'mon, get in!" Brittany hops back into the car and Rachel can't help but smile at her child-like enthusiasm for something so trivial. She wishes more than anything to be like that, carefree, happy for no particular reason. Before Brittany's life hadn't seemed very special. Sure, the girl is the best dancer at McKinley but she has no drive, no fire and if she isn't following Santana's every maniacal order, it's Sue's. In Rachel's mind she was on the fast track to becoming a permanent Lima townie. It's funny the way a day can change everything. As she found herself opening the car door and getting in, Rachel felt badly about looking down on her. Despite all her own drive and passion for what she thought she wanted, she sees now that of the two of them, Brittany is the one that has it all. She lives her life the way a teenager should, carelessly, filled with laughter, doing things and sharing the company of people she cares about. Meanwhile, Rachel's certain she's completely messed up every single thing she's ever cared about in her own life.

"You know Rachel, you really shouldn't walk around like that" Brittany says, her voice completely serious. Had she been paying more attention, Rachel would have noticed that Brittany completely turned to face her now, eyes and hands disregarding the road and steering wheel respectively. "That's how I got lost in the sewers last summer. The police dogs were only able to sniff me out because of a slim jim I forgot about in my back pocket. Oh, right! Eyes on the road, that's what San told me. And my hands are supposed like numbers on a clock…3 and 7…but that's really hard!"

"10 and 2" Rachel said absently.

"Oh right! You're so smart Rachel. San always drives us to school but today she couldn't because she's afraid one of her implants burst so she has to go to a plastic doctor. I told her she needed to go to a plant doctor but she wouldn't listen. Will a doctor made out of plastic be able to talk to her?"

Rachel tries to check herself back into reality. "Um, I'm not sure Brittany. Can I ask you a question though?"

"I love questions! Is it about my favorite color?"

"No."

"Oh…I totally could have answered that one." The blonde sounds disappointed. "What then?"

"Do you have a driver's license?"

"Nope!" She's so proud it's endearing for a moment. "This is Santana's car, she's getting a ride later from her Dad. But she said it's just like the arcade game at the movie theater and I used 94 quarters on that just last week so I'm basically an expert."

If it had been any other day Rachel would have been freaking out. She would have lectured Brittany on the importance of road safety for a good 45 minutes and insisted upon driving the rest of the way to school, even though Santana would have actually buried her in the ground for doing so. As things stood, the idea of dying in a car accident was as close to appealing as it had ever been, so she says nothing. What she isn't sure about is why she's letting herself be dragged to school today. She's not in the mood to go through the daily ringer of bullying that usually occurs and even worse than that, Beth will be there waiting for an explanation. In fact, as Rachel checks her phone she notes 7 missed calls and 11 text messages, all from her best friend.

They make a miraculously accident-free ride to McKinley, Rachel genuinely concerned about the strong disappointment she feels at this fact. Both girls get out of the car. "Um, thank you for the ride to school Brittany. It was very kind of you to offer."

"It was so fun, let's do it again soon! Maybe next time you can ask me what my favorite color is."

"Mm, yes, of course." Rachel has already tuned Brittany out as she scans the parking lot for signs of Beth. Seeing nothing she breathes a sigh of relief, offers Brittany one last nod and hurries across the parking lot. She's about to enter her first period class when her small burst of luck runs out.

"Rachel! Rachel fucking Berry!" Rachel tries to ignore her but Beth Puckerman had never been ignored in her entire life and she's sure as hell not going to start now. "Rachel I swear to God if you take another God-damned step into that classroom I will slushie you myself!" Rachel is sure her best friend knows the truth now and she wills her heart to stop beating. The dark-haired girl stalks down the hall to where the small brunette is frozen, staring hard at the ground. Beth ignores the way the entire hallway has gone silent and the feel of hundreds of eyes upon her. Grabbing Rachel she roughly pulls the girl along, disappearing into the handicapped bathroom. Closing the door, Beth whips around taking in the sad sight of Rachel Berry.

She looks like complete and utter shit. She's wearing the dress from last night's concert and it's rumpled in all the wrong places. That along with her chalk-white complexion, the dark circles under her eyes, disheveled hair and dried up snot under her nose she looks like one of those de-glamorized starlets that stare lifelessly from the gossip rags accompanied by headlines like "she's hit rock bottom." Instantly Beth's anger with the girl evaporates into thin air. "Rach…" She sighs deeply, leading her over to the sink. Turning on the faucet, she silently holds back Rachel's hair, letting the brunette splash her face with water. Offering her a towel, Beth begins to slowly run her hands through Rachel's hair, smoothing out the knots in the normally glossy main.

Catching the reflection of them in the mirror Beth almost smiles it's so absurd. There's Rachel looking like a broken-down stranger, disheveled in a way that would haunt her normally and then there's herself, tending to her best friend like some matronly saint. Who was she anyways, her mother? Beth Puckerman didn't play the comforting role, ever. If anybody from school were to stumble in upon the pair, they would have probably thought they had entered the twilight zone.

And yet, as she studies Rachel's perpetually furrowed brown and the lip that has permanently curled under her teeth she knows she'd do anything, even if the entire world was watching, to make her best friend better. "Rach" she starts softly, "where were you this morning?"

"I-I'm so sorry Beth" Rachel's voice is hollow, distant, so different from the self-assured, cheerful tone she usually projects. "I know I should have left a note. I went to the hospital this morning. A-are you mad at me?"

Beth's eyebrows raise, her mouth forming a small "o" of understanding. "No, of course not, why would I be mad?" How was it?"

For a moment Rachel sighs and Beth swears it seems out of relief but that doesn't make any sense. After a moment the brunette continues talking. "Awful, so awful. He was just lying there, unconscious, hooked up to all these machines. I don't…I don't think he can breathe on his own." Rachel swallows a sob, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Jesus, I'm so sorry, Rach." Beth pulls her into a strong hug and they stay like that for a while.

Beth's arms feel so nice. Rachel finally remembers what it feels like to have someone truly care about her. But as soon as she thinks this she feels guilty again. All she does is hurt the people she claims to love. Pulling away, Rachel gazes up at her best friend. "We should really get to class, half the period is probably over by now."

"Ah, fuck em. Who really cares anyways?" Rachel raises an eyebrow and for one beautiful moment things are normal. "Right, right you do. Anyways, before we go back to the real world, listen to me for a sec." Beth places her hands on Rachel's shoulders comfortingly. "Your Dad is gonna pull through, I just know it. What did Henry say about his condition?"

Rachel's eyes drop to the floor once more, shame burning in her chest. "I didn't talk to him. I…I ran away instead of waking him up. I didn't talk to any nurses or doctors either. God, I really am a terrible person."

"No!" Beth's voice is strong, her hands squeezing the brunette's shoulders for attention. "You're not Rach. You're one of the best people I know, ok? What you did was totally natural. Hell, I wouldn't have had the balls to go in the first place. You gotta give yourself a break."

Rachel sighs. "Thank you for that Beth but you just don't understand." As she speaks Rachel's thoughts wander to the kiss once more. The softness of Quinn's lips is burned into her memory now, something she thinks she'll carry until death.

Beth just shakes her head, deciding to concede for the moment. "Well, before we go back out, here. She opens her bag, handing Rachel fresh clothes. Here's some stuff you've left at my house from sleepovers. As hot as you look in that dress I think you should give it a break, huh?"

Rachel accepts the clothes gratefully. "Thanks Beth, you're a good friend."

"The best."

"The best," Rachel repeats sadly. "You can go back to class now, I'll be fine."

"Ok. Find me at lunch, alright?"

Rachel nods, leaning into the final hug Beth gives before watching her exit the bathroom. "I don't deserve a friend like you," she says to the door like it understands.

The next few periods pass by in the blur. Rachel is completely unaware of her surroundings, consumed by her own thoughts. If people were talking to her, they went ignored. If important class material was being handed out, she didn't get it.

Fourth period was upon her now and Rachel made her way to her next class. Completely running on muscle memory, she tries to think of ways to apologize to Quinn. Right now it's the only situation in her life that she had at least a little bit of control over and she's desperate to make things right. There had to be a way to explain her crazed behavior. Sleep walking? Temporary insanity? She's so consumed in her brainstorming that it's not until she's being pushed into a locker that she realizes someone is talking to her.

"Listen to me when I talk Manhands!" Santana is now inches away from her face, snarling like a pitbull.

"Yes, sorry Santana, what can I do for you?"

"I don't want to hear any of your polite bullshit today Berry. I come back from an…appointment and all I've been hearing about last period is how your manly ass rolled up this morning in MY car with MY…Brittany!"

Rachel's trying to keep her cool but the more Santana yells the less she can keep a grip on herself. "Brittany was kind enough to give me ride this morning. I had been walking and she…"

"I really don't want your fucking excuses either." Santana punches the locker right next to Rachel's head, making her flinch. "You know what it's gonna take to get your losery stench outta my whip? Do you have ANY idea?"

Rachel reacts so fast it's not until Santana is on the floor, looking like she's had the biggest surprise of her life, that the brunette realizes what she's done. Breathing heavily, words begin to pour out of her and it's like someone else is speaking. "Are you FUCKING kidding me Santana? THAT's your problem? That I sat in your car? That your only friend in the entire world was kind enough to give me a ride? GOD," she laughs bitterly, "what I would GIVE for that to be my problem!" She pounces on Santana then, slapping the girl as hard as she can. It's impossible for her to believe her actions, even as they're happening. And the worst part is how easily they come, flowing out of her as though she's always reacted like this. "But NO, my problem is just that my Dad is fucking DYING and that I ki…" Rachel finally stops herself, eyes widening.

For the second time that day the hallways are rendered completely silent because of Rachel Berry. Students look on in disbelief, wondering if they're still dreaming or if they've smoked too much pot before school. The click of Figgin's shoes on tile is what breaks the silence. His voice rings out, powerful and angry. "Rachel Berry, Santana Lopez, my office IMMEDIATELY!" Both girls are dragged off the floor and made to follow Figgins, neither of them able to believe the actions that have just transpired.

Rachel makes out like a bandit considering what she's done. One call to her Father and everything becomes clear. Her Father's condition is cited as the reason for her actions and she is deemed nearly blameless, like a criminal that is granted temporary insanity. She is made to apologize to Santana, which she does readily and sincerely and then she is dismissed from school, suspended for a few days but Figgins promises it won't show up on her record.

Sitting outside Figgin's office, Rachel waits for her Father to come and pick her up. She supposes that she's going to go back to the hospital with him and while that's terrifying, she hopes it will be comforting to see him too.

"Um, Rachel…."

"Rachel looks up and finds Santana standing there. At first she's completely frightened thinking she's going to get the slap she deserves. But Santana just stands there awkwardly, seeming to be wrestling with herself over something. "Santana…"

"I'm sorry, ok? I shouldn't have…I didn't know about your Dad. And I…well…I can be a real bitch sometimes. So I just want you to know that you get a freebie. Just one, for your Dad and everything…"

"T-thanks Santana. And I'm so sorry about what I did. There's really no excuse for my behavior and I promise I'll never do anything like that again."

"No Berry, you won't." a bit of that familiar menace returns to the Latina's voice, "because if you ever so much as touch me again, I'll kill you. You know that right?"

"Yes, yes of course. N-never again."

"Good. Alright, see you around then and I…I hope your Dad gets better."

"Thank you." Santana leaves and Rachel watches her, completely dumbfounded. Her life is becoming less and less normal by the second. Closing her eyes, Rachel leans her head back against the chair she's sitting on. Her head is pounding and she isn't sure if it's from being in her first real fight, her lack of food, her worry about her dad or her guilt about Quinn. Too much.

A hand touches her shoulder and Rachel opens her eyes, relief flooding over her. Seeing her Father will make everything a little better and she can work from there. Maybe everything can be alright. But as she brings her head back down, Rachel freezes. Blonde hair, hazel eyes and those lips. Quinn.


	7. Everything is Unresolved

**A****uthor's Note: The last chapter had seriously overwhelming response. Thanks guys! Again, I can't stress enough how much it means to me when I read that someone took a chance on this story and ended up liking it! It makes me so happy**!

At the sight of her, Rachel's heart begins to pound. Of course, this is nothing new. Her heart has always reacted this way to Quinn. It could be a principle of science the act is so concrete.

Rachel remembers the first time she ever saw her. It had been in a year that marked many firsts in her life. Beth Puckerman was her first real friend and Rachel had been invited to her first real sleepover. Rachel remembers standing outside Beth's door, sleeping back tucked under one arm, still floating on a cloud of awe over the fact that Beth Puckerman could have had anyone, anyone in the entire school as a friend and she picked her. And then Quinn opened the door and Rachel thought she had never seen a more beautiful woman in her entire life. She remembers the first time her heart lurched in her chest, so violently she thought it must be a heart attack. She remembers her first time being unable to speak, Quinn's beauty seemingly powerful enough to rob her of her senses. Never before or since has Rachel been so completely and utterly moved, changed by anyone like she was by Quinn Fabray.

Looking at her now, Rachel is no longer a wide-eyed, speechless freshman but her heart throbs just as it did then. The only difference is the familiarity of it all, the slow, aching burn of desire that has lodged itself permanently in her chest. The feeling is a part of her, so strongly she'd probably be lost without it.

"Rachel." The sound of her name on Quinn's lips is enough to make Rachel jump up from her seat. Taking a few steps backwards, out of Quinn's reach, she studies the woman carefully. Her face is scrunched up in worry, a familiar sight after the previous night's events. It's not at all how she pictured the blonde's face after what she had done. She expected disgust, confusion, caution, anything but what she saw now. Compassion.

"Q-Quinn."

"I'm so sorry, I know you were expecting your father. He called me and asked if I could come and get you. He of course wanted to do it himself but the hospital has him bogged down and he can't get away right now."

Rachel sighs. Of course. Quinn's a Christian saint. There's no way she would deny the request of a sick man in his time of need, no matter how repulsed she must be. "Oh. Do…do you happen to know Dad's condition?"

"No, I'm sorry honey I don't. You're more than welcome to use my cell phone to give him a call though. Just give me a second to talk to Principal Figgins so he knows what's going on."

"Ok." She takes the phone that's offered but makes no effort to use it. Honey? Rachel has to admit that Quinn is putting on an Oscar-worthy performance acting normally towards her. The cell phone offering was a nice bit. And then all the apologizing? How was she getting through it all without so much as a cringe?

Quinn returns, flashing a warm smile that makes Rachel feel all warm and tingly. "Ok, everything's good. Let's get out of here." The brunette nods, careful to fall in step a few paces behind Quinn as they walk down the hallway.

"Did you talk to your father?' Quinn slows down so that Rachel is forced to walk next to her.

"Uh…what? Oh, no I...he didn't pick up." Rachel lies, though she doesn't mean to. She doesn't understand the game Quinn is playing and it's throwing her off entirely. The way the blonde is acting seems like more than upholding some sort of Christianly duty. Why is she trying so hard? She tries to hand the phone back but Quinn won't take it.

"I'm sure he's just stepped out of the room for a moment or something, you should try again in a few minutes."

"O-ok." They walk the rest of the way to the car in silence, Rachel pretending to call her dad twice before they're surrounded by the familiar brown vinyl of Quinn's Toyota Corolla.

"So, do you want to talk about it?" Rachel flinches at the question, her eyes staring hard at the tattered edges of the passenger seat car mat. _It._ What a deceptively simple word. If only "it" could even begin to encompass the worlds within worlds of feelings Rachel has right now. No, she doesn't want to talk about "it" but at least Quinn is dropping the act that nothing is wrong between them. Something is very, very wrong.

"Um…only if you want to."

"I think it might be a good idea to get your feelings out in the open. I have to say that I was quite surprised…"

Rachel doesn't want to hear anymore. She just wants things to go back to the way they were, to stuff all of her ugly feelings back into the pandora's box her heart has become. She'll do anything. "Quinn, please!" Her eyes snap up to Quinn's and her hand reaches out, faltering for a moment, unsure of where to settle. She ends up drawing it back against her chest, fingers resting delicately over her heart. "Please" she says, softer this time. "Forgive me. I went temporarily insane. It meant nothing, absolutely nothing. I just, I was so overwhelmed. I'm still overwhelmed. I just…please, just forget about it. Please." Her eyes are wide and brimming with tears, begging for all they're worth.

Quinn's eyes are just as wide. For a moment everything is completely still. The thought "c_alm before the storm"_ runs through Rachel's dreading mind on repeat. And then Quinn reaches out and takes Rachel's hand in her own, squeezing it reassuringly. "Rachel, it's ok."

Rachel stares at her. "R-really?" Quinn's words create a beautiful respite, a wave of relief that begins to wash over her troubled mind and it's soothing in a way that nothing else could ever be.

"Of course."

"You don't think I'm a freak? You're not going to forbid Beth from seeing me?"

"No, I would never do that. Honestly I think you're being too hard on yourself. It really is a theme with you. I've had to deal with much worse outbursts from Beth. She didn't get that hot-headed streak from me."

"Beth? What do you-" As Rachel takes in Quinn's slight smile she realizes. Quinn is talking about the fight with Santana. It only takes a second for the relief she felt to be sucked up in a violent fury, leaving her worse than ever. For the first time Rachel actually feels anger towards Quinn. How can she be so clueless, so completely and utterly oblivious? It just doesn't make sense. For the first time Rachel wonders if maybe Quinn is playing with her. Looking at her soft, angelic features, she wonders if it's all just a deadly façade like the sirens in Greek mythology. What if Quinn knows everything and she's just torturing Rachel for fun, laughing as she crashes into the rocks again and again and again. The thought is poisonous, clouding all of her rationality in a murky haze. Her mouth is opening and words fly out of them like rounds from a machine gun, so fast she doesn't have the time to blink before they're out, let alone think them through. "Stop it! Stop playing games with me!" Her hand twists, grabbing Quinn by the wrist. "I can't do it anymore!"

Quinn looks completely taken aback. "Rachel, calm down. What are you talking about?"

Rachel is breathing hard. Her eyes search desperately for malice in the hazel irises she loves so much. But there is none. Not in the big pools of green or the gentle patches of brown or even those brilliant flecks of gold that sparkle against the light. She sees nothing but honesty. Her grip on Quinn loosens as she tries to calm herself. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what's come over me."

"I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have prodded you about what happened at school today. I'm not trying to be your mom or anything Rachel, I swear it. I just…I care about you."

Rachel lets Quinn hug her only because she's afraid of what might happen if someone isn't holding her together. If Quinn had said those words even five minutes earlier they would have meant the world. Rachel would have stored them away in her memory like precious pearls that you take out to polish and admire but are too afraid to wear because they mean that much. She would have basked in the though, wallowed and squeezed out every last drop of meaning until the sentence didn't even sound like words anymore. But now…now they felt like some cheap conciliation prize handed out at the county fair.

Even if it was only for a second, when she had believed that Quinn had been talking about the kiss and told her it was ok, it was the best feeling she had ever felt in her entire life. In that moment she had felt peace, a cool hand easing her burning brow. It had been so long. She doesn't want to be angry at Quinn for giving her something only to take it away so quickly, or at herself for not realizing her mistake. She just wants that feeling back, craves it. It's not very complicated or deep. Everyone wants to be accepted for who they are. In that moment Rachel feels the full weight of hiding her love for Quinn and it's exhausting.

Sighing deeply she pulls out of the hug. "Can we just start over, forget this whole conversation ever happened?"

Quinn nods and undoes her seat belt, motioning for Rachel to do the same. Opening her car door, she shuts it again. Catching on Rachel does the same. She can't help but smile at the gesture. "Alright Rachel, I'm not going to ask you about what happened with Santana but I really hope you try not to make a habit of fighting."

"No, I believe I'll stick to singing from now on." Quinn giggles and the sound is so girlish and pure. Rachel finds laughter bubbling out of her, real, rich laughter that she doesn't have to force. The moment doesn't make sense but she'll take it. She'll take it because her dad is still sick and her house is still empty and she's still in love with her best friend's mom who still hasn't mentioned their kiss. Everything is unresolved but she has this moment, laughing in an old, beat-up car with the person she loves. And there's something kind of beautiful about that.

"Alright, I guess we better get going. You are technically suspended from school grounds." Quinn starts the car and they drive off.

**A/N: Sorry that chapter was kind of short and didn't really go anywhere in terms of plot. I wanted to work through Rachel's thoughts in this chapter and it didn't seem right to plow into all the stuff I want to get to just yet. Hope you liked it though! Next chapter will have a lot going on! **


	8. The Ice Queen

**Author's Note: Here's the next chapter! I'm sorry this took so long to get out! I know a lot of people (basically everyone) wanted an explanation for Quinn's behavior and this chapter definitely starts to get into it, so thanks to everyone whose held in there for an explanation! Read and Enjoy!**

The car is stopped. Quinn hangs on the wheel, staring at the pavement of the driveway without really seeing anything at all. Rachel is beside her, eyes closed and breathing quietly. She fell asleep only minutes after the blonde had pulled out of the McKinley parking lot. Quinn isn't surprised though. Grief is exhausting.

Turning her head she stares at the young brunette and sighs, her brow furrowing deeply. She can still feel Rachel's grip on her wrist, the burn of doe eyes but mostly, the waves of pain that rolled off of her being with torrential force. They crash against Quinn again and again, daring her to crumble.

She thought she had changed. But this girl, this tiny, brunette girl has just sent her tumbling backwards into that same, awful place. Quinn may be thirty-three but her mind is wallowing in sixteen. Sixteen when she lived with a family so good at pretending, at hiding things, they disowned her just to maintain an illusion. Sixteen when she was known as the ice queen, building up walls around herself so thick and so frigid no one could ever touch her. Sixteen when nothing ever made sense but she didn't let it show.

Deep down Quinn had wanted to admit she knew Rachel was talking about the kiss, really, she did. But that was way down, past the point where darkness and closing your eyes become one in the same, the depths where creatures thrive on the blackest life there is. It's there that Quinn puts what she can't seem to reconcile in the light of day.

Lifting her head the blonde stares into the rear-view mirror and all she can see is her Mother, the one person she swore never to become. Judy Fabray and her knack for turning a blind eye to the truth. It was she who taught Quinn how to smile through pain and always remember to put on a show. She watched her do it through the pregnancy with Beth and through a marriage to her father, which, in retrospect, Quinn found to be a complete train wreck. How could it not be when nobody ever really talked to each other? Sure they talked about the weather and Russell would ramble on about sports and Quinn would talk about Cheerios and good grades but none of them had ever said anything real. A long time ago Quinn had swore to never allow that to happen again and yet, here she was. Her shame feels like acid, burning it's way through her innards at a glacial pace.

She looks at Rachel's sleeping form again, her eyes glassy and threatening to spill tears. "Forgive me." Quinn thinks that if she were truly sorry, truly brave she would shake the brunette awake and confess everything. But no amount of self-loathing or guilt will make her budge.

It's not that she's mad at Rachel for anything. If it had just been a stupid, spur of the moment peck, Quinn could have brushed it off with grace. The problem, she knows, lies in herself. There is a part of her, however small, that felt something. And that part won't be pushed down, hidden or denied as much as Quinn tries.

She's not stupid or some sick, delusional pervert. Rachel is seventeen years old. The same age as her daughter. Not only that but she's innocent, pure, talented. When Quinn looks at Rachel she see's everything she wanted to be when she was sixteen but couldn't. She can't mess up this girl's life, not over something so small. She refuses let things get any more out of hand then they already have. So she becomes what she hates, ices herself over in a thick, emotionless skin and denies the truth for all she's worth. On the outside, at least.

On the inside she's a complete mess. Even as she sits in the car, Quinn still feels the ghost of Rachel's lips, making her insides buzz. It's so wrong. Quinn would give anything, anything to feel differently. Her stomach feels like someone took a shard of glass and ripped up all of her organs. Shutting her eyes she tries to turn her mind off. If she doesn't think about it then whatever it is inside of her, whatever betrayal her mind has committed, maybe it'll go away.

And that's what it is, isn't it? A betrayal. Subconsciously Quinn's hand finds its way to the golden cross that glitters fiercely against her breastbone. All these years she's tried so hard to live her life according to God. At church the Pastor would go on and on about how living your life according to Him is the only right path. And she'd done that, hadn't she? Tried her hardest, anyways. Sure she's made mistakes in the past but she was always the first to admit them. Sleeping with Puck was her biggest mistake yes, but it gave her Beth. And since having her Quinn had rarely let herself stray even a little off the map. But here she was all the same, with no coordinates to speak of, completely and utterly uncharted.

Gripping the silver chain harder, Quinn begins to pray silently. _The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want; He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters; He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness or His name's sake…_

"Wh-what? Where am I ?" Rachel sits up in the car abruptly causing Quinn to jump, her heart rate skyrocketing.

"You're in our driveway. You fell asleep and I didn't know where you would want to go so I just drove here."

"Have I been asleep for long?" Rachel blinks sleepily. Quinn finds herself transfixed by the brunette's long lashes. She studies the curve of them, how they swoop skyward in the most delicate way possible. It takes her a second to realize what she's doing but once she does, Quinn breaks her gaze immediately.

"Um, no, not long at all. Are you hungry? I could make you something to eat inside."

"Yes, I think I'd like that very much." Rachel smiles softly, though it's a sad smile, heavy with circumstance.

"Ok then." Quinn nods, her hand finally falling away from her cross. She's been gripping it so hard an imprint of it has been etched into her palm. Once they go inside the house, Quinn tries to concentrate on not burning the grill cheese sandwich she's making. She rotates the pan back and forth on the burner, her mind completely elsewhere. There must be a reason for these feelings. She racks her brain for reasons. Maybe it's because she hasn't been intimate with someone in while. In fact, as she thinks about it, Quinn can't remember the last time she had even been out on a date. Being a good mother and a good Christian had taken priority for so long, everything else had kind of fallen by the wayside. For the first time since the previous night she breathes a sigh of relief. That must be it. It's not an excuse for her awful thoughts or a way to make everything right but it's something.

"Quinn?' The blonde turns half way around from the stove. Rachel is standing a few feet behind her looking nervous. "Can I ask you something?"

Instinctively Quinn wants to say no. Even if she's figured out a possible reason for her feelings she's still not ready to admit any kind of truth to the brunette. But she doesn't want to lie anymore either because she sees how much pain it causes Rachel. It's an impossible position to be in. "Y-yes, of course Rachel, what is it?"

"Do…" Rachel is hesitant with her words, wringing her hands together as her toe digs an imaginary hole into the kitchen tile. "Do you think I'm a bad person if I can't bring myself to go visit my father? I feel terrible about it but just the thought of seeing him again, lying there in that bed… It makes me want to run away, as fast and far away from Lima as I can."

It's not the question she thought it would be at all, and for that Quinn breathes a quick sigh of relief. Though, now she has a completely different matter to think about. She wants to choose her words carefully because Rachel looks as though she'll take whatever she says as if it were the words of God Himself. Turning off the burner, she sets the frying pan on the counter to let the grilled cheese cool. She spins around completely and leans against the counter, pondering a reply.

"Rachel, I don't think you could be a bad person if you tried," she says honestly. "What you're going through right now is an impossibly difficult situation, one that would be a lot for an adult to handle, let alone a teenager. I think you should visit your father when you feel ready to. Doing it before won't do anyone any good."

Rachel's eyes are as large as saucers as she looks up at Quinn. "Thank you. I don't know how but you always seem to know what say." Before either of them know it, Rachel is stepping forward and wrapping her arms around the older woman. Quinn breathes in sharply. She's surrounded by Rachel now, practically drowning in her. She's smelling her, feeling her, breathing in her essence. It's impossible not to think about how tiny the younger girl is, how perfectly she fits into her embrace. Quinn can even feel her heartbeat, fast and erratic against her own. She gives herself a moment, one last moment of feeling it all and then she pushes Rachel away as gently as she can. Her body mourns the loss of warmth but Quinn clings to her new-found explanation like it's the only thing keeping her afloat.

There's a knock at the front door. Quinn's grateful for an excuse to put a little distance between Rachel and herself. "Sorry, let me just get the front door and then I can put that sandwich on a plate for you."

"No, please don't worry. I've been to your house a million times before, I know where the plates are."

"Right, ok then." Quinn gives her a quick smile before making a hasty departure. Walking down the hallway she can make out a dark silhouette behind the door, tall and masculine.

Unlocking it she peers out at the visitor through the screen. He's turned away from the door now, leaning against the railing of the porch and gazing out across the front lawn. "Puck?" With everything going on with Rachel in the past 24 hours she had completely forgotten that Puck was still in town. In fact, she realizes she has no idea how long he plans on sticking around.

He turns and smiles at her and it's that same impish grin he's had since they were kids. Some things never change. "What's up, Quinn? You're looking smokin' on this lovely afternoon." Same smile, same pickup lines.

Quinn chuckles at this, shutting the screen door and moving out onto the porch so that they're side by side. "You don't look so bad yourself these days." And it was true, dressed in a crisp, button-down shirt; tie and slacks Noah Puckerman looked the part of a savvy, slick-talking businessman.

"Eh you know, gotta dress sharp to charm the ladies. It is my job, after-all."

"What is it that you do now? I have a hard time keeping track."

"Nobody ever can. Right now I'm trying my hand at traveling sales. Which reminds me, can I interest you in a top of the line Robuston hand-vacuum cleaner?"

"Really Puck, you've become THAT guy?"

"Hey, a man's gotta make a living somehow! How else will I pay child support, huh? Cleaning pools definitely wasn't gonna cut it and my short lived gig as a male escort fizzled out a while back."

Quinn nudges him with her elbow playfully. "You really shouldn't joke about that, you know. Everyone will think you're serious, especially with your history."

Puck takes her by the shoulders, turning her so that they're facing one another. "Who says I'm joking?" His face is completely solemn for a moment but just as Quinn starts to second-guess herself he cracks a smile. "You're too easy, Fabray."

She shakes her head in mock disapproval. "You really never change, do you Puck?"

"I don't see why I should have to."

"You're so nonchalant about everything. I envy you."

"You shouldn't though. Quinn, I'm the one that's jealous of you." He's serious again but there's no hint of a joke coming around the corner. "Really, look at what you've accomplished. You raised our daughter, basically on your own, I'm the first one to admit that. And she turned out to be this great kid, maybe she's got a little more of me in her than she should, but damn is she ever special. You did that while putting yourself through college and then you went out and got yourself a job. There aren't a lot of people who can survive on their own like that, you know."

Quinn's flattered by his compliments but hearing everything from her past laid out like that just makes her feel tired. She sighs and turns from him. "It wasn't easy, that's for sure."

"Anyways," Puck rubs the back of his neck, a slight blush at his cheeks. "That's not what I came over to talk about. "How's Rachel doing?"

The sound of her name brings Quinn harshly back to reality. It's always been too easy for her to get caught up in Puck's charm and forget about the world around her, simultaneously a blessing and a curse. "As well as can be expected. You want to talk about having a hard time, Rachel's really going through the ringer right now. The only reason I'm home is because I had to pick her up from McKinley for fighting and her Dad's still unconscious. The other one is a complete emotional wreck as well. I said she could stay here for as long as they need of course, but I really can't tell how long that could be."

"Jeez, that's rough. Do you think her old man will pull through?"

"I'm praying that he does for that whole family's sake."

"I'm not exactly great at talking to the big guy upstairs but I'll definitely give a holler up to him tonight. No kid should have to go through losing a parent like that." He glances down at his watch. "Shit, I'm gonna have to get back on the clock in a few, definitely going over my lunch break right now."

Quinn turns her head to him and studies Puck for a moment. She takes in his handsome face, the strong jaw, deep hazel eyes and pouty set of lips that she used to love to kiss so much. Just talking to him for this couple of minutes has helped to give her some peace. She misses how simple he makes things. "Puck…Noah, will you take me out tonight?"

His dark eyebrows raise, so high and so fast it's comical. "Really? You sure about that one Fabray?"

"I mean, we haven't seen each other in a while and talking to you just now, it was really nice. So how about it, Breadstix? For old times sake?"

"Of course, anything for my baby mama," he jokes. "I can pick you up at six."

"It'll just be for an hour or so," she clarifies quickly. "I don't feel like I can leave Rachel in the state she's in for much longer than that."

"Yeah, of course. Well, I guess I'll see you tonight then. Be sure to wear something foxy," he teases. She smacks his arm again. Hoping down the steps two at a time he gets in his car and pulls out of the driveway. Quinn waves him off.

"It's just a friendly dinner," she tells herself. Though there's a part of her that can't help but feel that she's using Puck. She needs it though. Her mind is sick and maybe, just maybe he can be the cure. If she can get in a better place emotionally, drive out all of the confusion and misplaced feelings for Rachel then she'll be able to do a better job at helping the girl cope with everything. It's not the cleanest solution but what other choice does she have?

Quinn heads back inside. Locking the door she turns and comes face to face with Rachel. The grilled cheese is clutched in the brunette's hand but only a tiny bite has been taken out of it. She looks somber as ever, her dark eyes piercing Quinn's so deeply it's unnerving. "You're going out on a date with Noah?" Rachel's words are soft but tinged with emotion.

A strong desire to apologize to Rachel courses through Quinn's body like a jolt of electricity. She wants to tell Rachel that she's doing it to help her, everything she's doing, all the lying, and the avoidance, everything, it's all to help her. But of course, she can't, so Quinn just nods affirmatively. Swallowing hard Quinn brushes past the brunette to the kitchen. "Let me get you a glass of cider to go with that sandwich."

**Author's Note: So there you go! There'll be a lot more Rachel/Quinn interaction in upcoming chapters, so you can look forward to that! Also, Puck's appearance is only temporary, I PROMISE! Don't despair too much!  
**


	9. Shattered

**Author's Note: Read and enjoy!**

Rachel's teeth are clenched tightly, jaw locked as she stares at herself in the mirror. Why can't she just BE Noah? Wouldn't that just make all of her problems disappear? Noah Puckerman, the man who doesn't realize that he has everything. He's got the love of the two people she cherishes most in this world and he barely lifted as much as a finger to get it.

It's so easy with him. That's the part that really kills her. Noah can be with Quinn and it makes sense, two pieces of the puzzle that fit together like it's meant to be. Not like her and Quinn. Making them fit together is like twisting at something, contorting it in the most painful way possible. And the end result will only ever be an illusion of something that works.

Her eyes slide to the clock in Beth's room. 6:25. She thinks that by now they're definitely snuggled up in a booth, appetizers forgotten as they lose themselves in the past and in each others' company. When Noah came to pick Quinn up, promptly at 6, she had forced herself half way down the stairs to watch like some sick glutton for punishment. He had changed for dinner, dressed himself down in an olive-hued sweater that complimented his brawny frame and made his eyes simmer. Quinn hadn't done much besides add a white cardigan to the skirt and blouse she had been wearing and let her hair out of a ponytail. She looked stunning, like always. The blonde had spoken to her before they left but her words hadn't quite made it up the stairs. Something about Beth being held up at school with Coach Sylvester and ice cream in the fridge. Rachel nodded her head and forced a smile but all she could focus on was what beautiful couple they made. And in that moment, the outcome to all of it just seemed inevitable. Mr. and Mrs. Puckerman with their lovely daughter Beth, the perfect family.

Accept it, she tells herself. Just accept that Quinn isn't meant to be hers. Stop making up battles that can't even be fought, let alone won. And she tries. To her credit, Rachel does try. Wishing that Beth were around to distract her, Rachel sets about the house trying to move on. She cleans Beth's room and alphabetizes both her paltry book collection and comparatively voluminous DVD collection. She cleans Beth's bathroom as well before heading downstairs. Turning on the TV she gets through a full ten minutes of Wheel of Fortune before turning it off. She even tries calling her father on his cell phone. No answer. Rachel still isn't ready to see them again. Quinn's words were comforting but she feels like a terrible person all the same. What kind of daughter avoids her father when he's seriously hurt? The ringing of the phone feels like a blessing because Rachel isn't sure what she'll do if she lingers on the subject for too long.

Crossing over to the kitchen she picks up the phone, cradling the receiver between her cheek and shoulder. "Hello, um, Fabray/Puckerman residence."

"Hi my name is Brittany S. Pierce, not to be confused with pop legend Britney Spears, can I talk to Beth please?"

"Brittany?"

"Yeah…I said that, right? No Lord Tubbington, I will NOT pick you up from your art lesson right now, stop texting me!"

"This is Rachel Berry, I'm currently staying at Beth's house. She's not here."

"Ooh, hi Rachel! So is this like that show where the moms switch houses? Is Beth at your house right now? I really need her help so if you could give me your phone number I'd really appreciate it."

"No, no, Beth's still living here, she's just not here right now. I think she's still with Coach Sylvester going over new Cheerio routines."

"Oh. Could you help me then?"

"I'll try. What's going on?"

"Well, you see, I still have Santana's car and I'm supposed to pick her up from her date with Finn at Breadstix but I got lost trying to find it."

Rachel tries to keep the bemused tone out of her voice. "You get lost a lot, don't you Brittany?"

"Yeah, pretty much every day. Usually San's around to help me though but today's been weird without her. Good thing you've been around."

Rachel smiles at this. "Ok Brittany, I'll help you but do you think you could do me a favor in return?"

"Yeah definitely but I don't think we can go past anything more than kissing cause Santana would be totally mad at me and she'd probably try to kill you."

"No, no, not that kind of favor," Rachel flushes at the though. "I need you to drop me off at the hospital so I can see my Dad." The words came out without her really thinking about them but once she did it felt right. Time to stop wallowing and bite the bullet. Her dads have done so much for her in the past; she needs to be there for them too.

"Ok, as long as you give me directions."

"Of course. Thank you, Brittany."

It's not easy but Rachel stays on the phone with Brittany for a good twenty minutes helping her to get un-lost. The blonde arrives in front of Beth's house and with a quick prayer up to whomever Rachel climbs in the car with her for the second time that day.

"You're sure you don't want me to drive, Brittany?" It felt like days had passed since that morning but a few minutes in the car and Brittany's unique driving technique all came back to Rachel.

"Nooo, Santana would kill me if I let anyone but her or me drive. Hopefully she won't be mad that I gave you a ride again. She was not happy this morning. And I would hate to see you beat her up again, that was scary."

"Yeah," Rachel blushes again, "I'm really sorry about that. I don't know what came over me."

"It was scary but I kind of liked seeing you be different like that. I think San did too, deep down."

"Hmm, well I don't think anyone will be seeing that side of me again any time soon. I basically go suspended for it. Oh, take a right at this stop sign."

"Breadstix, there it is!" Before she can say anything Brittany's pulled into the parking lot. Somehow Rachel had completely forgotten that the restaurant would be before the hospital.

"Uhh Brittany, I know it's a little excessive but could you actually drop me off at the hospital first?" She really can't be here. The temptation to check up on Quinn and Noah's date has struck her fast, a bolt of lightning straight to her heart.

Brittany looks at Rachel, cocking her blonde head to the side in the same way a dog does when it's confused. "What does ex..essive mean?" Rachel doesn't say anything. It's difficult enough to keep herself from jumping out of the car and running into the restaurant like a maniac, so a quick English lesson for Brittany feels out of the question. "And like, I know you need to get the hospital but we're already here. I just gotta go in and get Santana, I'll be real quick. I promise!" Before Rachel can get a word in edge-wise Brittany has bounded out of the car and is already halfway across the parking lot.

Rachel exhales, pursing her lips. "Ok, this is fine. I'm fine." Shutting her eyes Rachel tries to keep her mind clear and Quinn-free. She tries to think of what she'll say when she finally talks to her Dad but nothing is coming to her. How does a person apologize for being so selfish? Thinking about it just puts her more on edge. The seconds drag on. The clock in Santana's car is broken but Rachel is sure she's been waiting for twenty minutes now. Where was Brittany? Her fingers flirt dangerously with the handle to the car door, tracing its outline with a jittery fervor. She wants to fight so badly to be better. It was only an hour or so ago that she swore to stop caring about Quinn and here she is, already on the brink of relapse.

Like an addict her mind starts to betray her, conjuring up loopholes and hypothetical scenarios where leaving the car becomes absolutely necessary. It's feels hot in the car, stuffy and suffocating. Hypothetically Rachel thinks she could pass out. Or what about Brittany? The girl should be back by now. What if something happened to her? Maybe Santana got mad because she allowed Rachel in the car again. And then there was her ever-looming visit to the hospital. Would it be so wrong to go into Breadstix to get Brittany or Santana or someone to drive her there? Every second counted when someone was in the hospital, didn't it?

Rachel isn't sure what does the trick, genuine concern or the guise of it. The truth of the matter is that she doesn't care. All she knows is that the car door is opening, as if by magic and the door to Breadstix is getting closer and closer with every step she takes. At the entrance, she pauses. If there's a moment for retreat it's now. She could run back to the car and lock herself in. Forget about Quinn.

But she can't. Rachel opens the door and cautiously edges her way into the large dining room. Standing off to the side her eyes search out Quinn and Noah, finding them at a far table close to the back of the restaurant. She realizes that she has no idea what she was planning to do after seeing them together at the restaurant. Was her mind truly sick enough to believe she could march over there and drag Quinn away, profess her love and then they would ride off into the sunset together? "What am I doing here?" She rips her gaze away from them and instead looks around for Brittany or Santana, neither of whom are anywhere to be found. "If they're making out in the bathroom or something I am going to Kill Brittany."

"Rachel?" A hand on her shoulder snaps Rachel's attention the presence of someone beside her. It's Finn Hudson.

"Finn, hi!" She exclaims, her surprise raising the volume of her voice obnoxiously.

"Uh…hi. How's it going?"

"Fine, fine." Things between her and Finn had been awkward ever since their first year in glee club together. They had a brief flirtation and even kissed once but it had never really amounted to anything. He was a nice enough guy but Rachel equated Finn, much like Brittany, to a dopey but loveable puppy. Not her type in the least.

"Are you having dinner here or something?"

"Um, no, actually, I'm waiting for Brittany. She's picking up Santana here. Wait, aren't you and Santana supposed to be on a date right now?"

"Yeah," Finn scratches his neck, staring at the ground. "We were having dinner but then Brittany came over to our table and they both went to the bathroom. They've been in there for a while now."

"I knew it." Rachel mutters under her breath.

"Yeah I paid the bill and now I'm not sure if I should stick around or not. We were planning on going back to my place and…uh…"

"Oh." Rachel studies Finn. He obviously had no idea about Santana and Brittany. It was actually kind of amazing considering they were two of the least subtle people she had ever met. She feels bad for him but how could someone be so completely and utterly clueless when the truth was right in from of them? It reminds her of Quinn, actually. Quinn. Rachel's attention returns to the couple's table. Quinn is laughing and Noah has a smug grin on his face. And then he's leaning across the table, eyes glittering with intent. Rachel knows she should look away. It's a destiny she can't fight and watching it unfold will only hurt her. But she can't.. Her bottom row of teeth digs into her lip and pain seems to ground her a little. Brown eyes take in the moment hungrily like only a true sadist can.

Their lips meet and they truly appear as some glamour advertisement for love. The way his large hands cup the delicate frame of her face. They are perfect and Rachel feels it wash over her like the current of a wave, trapping her beneath the surface and leaving her with no oxygen to breathe.

"I-I really have to go. Sorry, Finn." She can't escape fast enough, bolting out of the restaurant and into the parking lot. The image of their kiss is seared in her mind. Like a hysterical, blind woman she staggers around until finally propping herself against one of the dumpster along the side of the restaurant.

This was always how it was going to end. Quinn and Noah in their perfect little fairytale and Rachel in a nightmare she can't wake up from. She had to have known that. And she did, but she let herself fall into it anyways. Her head falls back, hitting the metal of the dumpster with a dull thud. What now?

From where she is Rachel can see the door to Breadstix. She watches it open, a bewildered Finn walking out. He looks around and she wonders if he's looking for her. Giving up after a minute or so he walks to his car and pulls out of the parking lot. The door opens again and Rachel's sure it's going to be Brittany. She's ready to pounce on the girl, yell at her until she's hoarse for disappearing. But it's not Brittany. It's Quinn.

The blonde stumbles out of the restaurant not unlike the way Rachel had left it herself. She shields her eyes from the setting sun like it burns her. Noah is nowhere to be seen. Something is wrong. "Quinn!" Rachel doesn't know what makes her call out.

Turning at the sound of her name, Quinn sees Rachel. They lock eyes and something about the interaction seems to make something click for Quinn. Her hands fall away from her face, posture straightens. Calmly she begins to make her way over to Rachel. And Rachel finds herself rooted to the spot. She couldn't move if she wanted to, if an asteroid was barreling towards her and all she had to do was step sideways she couldn't. Quinn's gaze holds her still like an iron trap clamped around her heart.

Soon they're only a few feet from each other. "Quinn?" The older woman doesn't stop, keeps inching closer until barely a whisper of space separates them. "What are you…" Quinn's lips silence her. She kisses Rachel with an urgency that's contagious. It makes Rachel want to grab hold of her and push her to the ground, straddle her on the pavement. But she's afraid, terrified of ruining the moment, having it pop before her eyes like a bubble and being left with nothing all over again. So she stays still, giving herself over willingly and completely. Quinn presses her against the side of the building, hands reaching up and cupping Rachel's cheeks. With her last coherent thoughts Rachel thinks that Quinn is kissing her the same way Noah kissed her only moments ago. It's confusing and fucked up but she just doesn't' care because nothing in her entire life has ever felt as right as this moment.

**A/N: Yeahhh, that's right people, we're FINALLY getting somewhere! Hope you're as excited as I am for the next chapter. Should be EPIC.**


	10. Fight or Flight

**Author's Note: Thanks for all of your reviews! Read and enjoy!**

Something inside Quinn snapped. She felt it when Puck kissed her.

Reading Noah Puckerman is easy. He wears emotions like a decorated veteran. It was obvious he wanted to kiss her long before he leaned over and did it. And she just let him. Like the bystander watching a robbery take place she surrendered herself to fate.

His lips meet hers, feeling immediately wrong, so wrong she wonders how they ever managed to make a child together. Large, calloused hands grip her cheeks and it's a possessive kind of grip, fueled by entitlement. Quinn sees where this path leads and it's suddenly nowhere she wants to go. She thought Puck could be her savior but this taste of being with him just feels like a trap, a shackle to her ankle that will rub right down the to bone.

"Stop, stop it," she mutters, pushing him away. Leaning back in her chair Quinn tries to be rational but everything feels like it's coming down on her. If Puck isn't the answer, then what? She feels panic rising up in her chest.

Puck is shifting uncomfortably in his chair. "I'm sorry Quinn I thought…well…you seemed like…uhh…"

"No, no, I'm sorry. This is my fault, I don't know what I was thinking," Quinn stands up, dropping her napkin on the table. "I..,I have to go." She practically bolts out of the restaurant. Bursting out into the parking lot she's blinded but the brilliance of the setting sun, reds and oranges and purples all bleeding together in vicious beauty. The world is closing in around her, so suffocating. Nothing feels right in her life. It's all just completely messed up.

"Quinn?" The sound of that familiar voice appears out of nowhere. The blonde looks around, spotting Rachel not twenty feet away. Rachel. In her despair Quinn had forgotten that there is one thing that feels right, no matter how hard she tries to fight it or push it down. That one thing she hadn't dared admit to herself but chips away at her icy core like nothing else. It's in her heart, in her very veins pulsing with violent fervor, one name, one being. Rachel. And she doesn't care if it's wrong anymore, at least in this moment. Quinn's slipping under the surface, seconds away from drowning and Rachel is only thing she's got to hold on to.

Without a word Quinn blazes a deliberate path to the brunette. For once in her life there's no hesitation. Tired of thinking and tired of caring she reaches out with brazen hands. She takes something. And God does it feel good. Rachel's lips aren't chapped like Puck's had been. They're soft and sweet. Kissing her is like nothing else Quinn has ever known, pumping energy through her veins and making her head spin. Pushing her against the wall of the restaurant the blonde drags her hands from Rachel's cheeks, down the smooth expanse of her neck. Fingers hook onto the material of Rachel's sweater, pulling at her, wanting her impossibly close.

Quinn only breaks contact when she can't take another moment without air. The world is still spinning and she feels lightheaded. She places a steadying hand against the wall beside Rachel. Sucking in deep lungfuls of oxygen her gaze focuses in on the brunette. They stare at each other for a good couple of minutes, neither daring to speak. She's expecting all hell to break loose but it doesn't. Instead Quinn feels eerily calm. The fire of confusion that had burned through her so furiously is all but put out. In that moment nothing seems to matter but Rachel.

The brunette opens her mouth like she's about to speak and then closes it. Her eyes are downcast, studying the ground like it's going to open up and give her all the answers to the universe. Quinn waits patiently. Finally Rachel reaches up with a shaky hand, fingers curving around the arm leaning against the wall. The contact almost makes Quinn's knees buckle beneath her. Hazel eyes finally meet brown ones and the vulnerability she sees there is hypnotizing. "Tell me…" Rachel's voice is so small.

"Tell you what?" Quinn thinks she would tell this girl anything.

"Tell me this is really happening. I need to hear you say it. I just…I don't trust myself anymore."

Quinn's heart slips low into her stomach. What has she done? She wants to take it back, all the pretending and denying the kiss, all of the harm she's caused. Leaning forward she kisses Rachel again wishing more than anything to heal her pain. Rachel's grip on her arm tightens. Quinn breaks away but leaves her face close. "Yes." Her voice comes out shaky and fragile. "This is happening. I'm so sorry Rachel, about pretending the kiss didn't happen that night on the balcony. I-I was scared. I'm still scared and I don't know if this right but I just…I need you and I…"

She's not sure where she's going with her speech and it doesn't seem to matter because Rachel cuts her off, crashing their lips back together. Kissing the brunette is one thing but being kissed by her is entirely another. Her lips sear Quinn with intensity, attacking them again and again. They're warm and so inviting, making Quinn feel like there's nothing in the entire world Rachel would rather be doing than kissing her. The force of it all leaves her head swimming. Quinn's vaguely aware of herself taking Rachel's hand in her own and leading her across the now darkened parking lot.

They fall into the backseat of her car, Quinn's back hitting the base of the seats as she grips Rachel securely around the waist. Rachel straddles Quinn, her lithe body bending down and pressing against hers as she captures Quinn's lips in a kiss once more. Feeling drunk on passion Quinn is bold. She slides her tongue into Rachel's mouth, tasting her for the first time. She's somehow minty and sweet at the same time. Kissing her is like a drug. It numbs away all the confusion and the worry and the pain. She's been fighting it for so long, letting Rachel get under her skin but now that she's there Quinn doesn't think she'll ever be able to let her go.

Rachel is surprisingly forward. She's confident as her hands slip under Quinn's shirt, fingers dancing up her abdomen and brushing against the edge of her bra. Quinn's eyes widen in surprise. She doesn't know if she's ready for this but her body trembles under the touch all the same. Her own hands can only manage to wrap around Rachel's waist. Her sweater has ridden up and Quinn gasps at the softness of the younger girl's skin. She's so fixated by it that when she feels a pair of lips at her neck she nearly faints.

The contact sends her into a kind of euphoric coma where all she can do is drop her head back onto the seat of the car. Rachel's lips are so gentle as they graze her skin, same with her hands that push up Quinn's shirt and wander across the smooth plateau of her stomach. The blonde closes her eyes, Puck's kiss becoming harder and harder to remember with every brush and stroke. It feels like Rachel is healing her.

There's something there, something so special about the moment and about them being together. Quinn's never felt so fragile, so vulnerable in her entire life. Rachel has the ability to break her down into grains of nothing but instead she's building her back up, making her stronger. Nobody's ever made her feel like that.

Slowly her own hands begin to rub circles against the brunette's skin. It makes Rachel stop what she's doing. Her face falls into the crook of Quinn's neck, lips quivering against the bare skin there.

The sound of Quinn's phone splinters the moment, sending the pieces flying in all directions. Rachel's body jerks away, sliding off of her lap and to the other side of the car. She looks scared, afraid of what the future will bring. Quinn knows it's because of her and a pang of guilt runs through her body. The brunette's afraid she'll go back to how things were before, that she'll bury this moment in dust and never acknowledge it again. Quinn couldn't do that again even if she wanted to. She grips her phone, regretfully flipping it open. "Hello?"

"Mom, hey!" Both of their eyes widen at the sound of Beth's voice. There's a pause before Quinn answers. The air is thick with tension. Her eyes dart to Rachel's but she can't read them. She would give anything to know what she's thinking.

"H-hi Beth."

"I was just calling to tell you I don't think I'm gonna be home tonight. Coach Sylvester is making the captains of the team do survivor team building and we're sleeping outside in tents or something. I thought I'd call and say goodbye in case I don't make it."

Quinn forces a laugh. "Ok, that's for letting me know sweetie."

"How's Rachel doing?"

What a question. Quinn's eyebrows raise as she glances over at the brunette again. "I honestly couldn't tell you. She's, she's been up in your room. I think she's watching movies." It's amazing how far a person can fall. Just a moment ago Quinn had felt better than she had in forever, alive and buzzing all because of Rachel. Now she feels like the scum of the earth. She's never lied to Beth like this before.

"Good. That's good right? At least she's doing something normal-ish." Beth sighs, "I'm just really worried about her, you know?"

"I know hun, I know. Things will get better. They always do with time."

"Thanks Mom, I'll see you tomorrow."

"I love you."

"Love you too." The line goes dead. Quinn lowers her hand and just stares at the phone for a moment. What is she even doing?

"Um Quinn, was that…?"

She look up and nods her head. "It was."

"Oh."

"It's late. We should probably head back now." Straightening her clothes Quinn moves up to the front of the car. Rachel does the same. As she pulls out of the driveway her mind is moving a mile a minute. If she thought she was confused before it's nothing compared to what she feels now. The urgency and desire are clearing like smoke and all she's left with are the facts. They're cold and hard pressing against Quinn with all the intensity of a blade. She's a 33 year-old woman. Rachel is 17, not only her daughter's age but also her best friend. How can it ever work?

Rachel's quiet the whole ride home. They get out of the car and it occurs to Quinn that in the last 72 hours or so, every time she's gotten out of the car her world has been different from the time before. She's not sure whether to call it growth or just circumstance.

They get inside the house and stand across from each other awkwardly. "I think I'm gonna go to bed" Rachel says.

"Ok." Quinn walks her go up the stairs, completely torn. What should she say? What should she do? To continue on with what she started tonight would be wrong but to do nothing feels wrong as well. She knows she has to make a decision because the damage is done. She's kissed Rachel and told her things that can't be taken back.

Fight or flight, she thinks. That's really what it comes down to. And even as Quinn gives herself the ultimatum she suddenly knows what choice she'll make.

Turning off the lights, Quinn goes upstairs. She walks into Rachel's room, stopping at the threshold. Rachel is curled up in a ball on the bed. Her hands are wrapped around herself protectively and she looks so lost and so small.

Quinn walks over and gets on the bed behind Rachel. Gently she wraps her arms around the brunette, her forehead coming to rest against soft brown strands of hair. She ignores the small gasp that comes out of Rachel's mouth and lets a reassuring shush break through her own lips.

After a moment Rachel stretches out. She lets her body curve into Quinn's, rigidness completed excised from her body. Her breath evens and it's only a couple of minutes before she's fast asleep. A small smile touches Quinn's lips. She never thought of herself as being a big spoon and honestly, it's kind of nice. She knows this doesn't truly solve anything but for now there's peace and it's all she can ask for.

The sound of Rachel's soft, even breathing is lulling her to sleep and in that moment she knows that finally, finally she's making the right choice.


	11. Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own

**Author's Note: I was feeling particularly thankful this evening and decided to work really hard to get this next chapter out to all of you who read this story. Thank you so much for all the positive response, you are all awesome! Happy Thanksgiving!**

What causes a heart to beat? Rachel realizes that, scientifically, she has no idea. Something to do with blood, maybe? Quinn's heart is steady, strong. Rachel could lay in this bed for hours pressed up against the blonde just listening to her heart like it's the most moving piece of music she's ever heard.

It's quite surreal because never in a million years would Rachel have imagined being held by Quinn Fabray. They're cuddling for God sakes. A part of her wants to just die of happiness while the other is freaked out enough to jump out of her skin. As she regretfully rolls out of the older woman's embrace it's neither of these feelings that pushes her out of the bed. Shivering at the loss of her warmth Rachel can't help but lean over and plant the softest kiss on Quinn's cheek. For a moment she's utterly captivated by the long golden lashes that curl at her eyelids. She wants to crawl back into bed and count every single one. But there are more pressing matters at hand. Walking around to the nightstand she finds a piece of paper and pen, scribbling a quick message.

_Gone to the hospital, back soon._

For the first time in a while she feels a sort of peace. Quinn's given her strength and she can't bear to waste a drop of it. Her father has waited long enough.

The walk to the hospital is so different from the last. Rachel finds herself appreciating the warmth of the sun on her skin, every leaf that hangs on the trees above her head. It's a new day. Walking straight up to her father's room, the brunette doesn't hesitate as she enters. Once again her father is slumped over in a chair next to the hospital bed. The defibrillator is still making that awful mechanical noise but she tries to tune it out. Wordlessly she walks to her father and climbs onto the chair. She presses her face in his shirt, taking in the familiar scent of his cologne. "Daddy," she says in a hushed voice. The weight and emotion of how much she's missed her family is heavy on her heart.

Henry stirs, bringing a hand to his eyes in an attempt to rub away sleep. His other hand wraps around his daughter and he gives her a comforting squeeze. "Hey Pumpkin." His voice is low and raspy. Tentatively Rachel reaches across the space between the chair and the hospital bed. She takes her other father's hand, clasping it tight. It doesn't make things better, not really. Rachel is still scared as all hell of losing her father, still ashamed for having taken so long to come and still trying to sort out everything with Quinn at the back of her mind but having the three of them together in a room makes her feel less alone.

They stay like that for a while, the silence between them a comfortable one. Only when the nurse comes in to check Paul's charts do either of them move. Rachel stands up, followed by Henry and they embrace once more. Henry stares down at his daughter. He offers up the biggest smile he can muster though Rachel can tell he's beyond exhausted. Rubbing his bloodshot eyes once more, Henry lets out a deep sigh. "You hungry, Rach?"

"Starving."

"Great, let's get some breakfast at the cafeteria. Coffee too, definitely coffee."

Fifteen minutes later finds them seated on plastic benches, facing one another as they munch on respective bagels. Steeling herself, Rachel takes a sip of coffee before asking the inevitable question that has been silently hanging between them. "So, how is he?"

Henry doesn't look up at her when she answer and Rachel knows it's because he doesn't want to start tearing up in front of her. "It's been pretty much touch and go for the last few days. The doctors say he's stable now but that things could turn around at any second. At this point we've got to just pray for the best. It's out of our hands now."

Rachel pushes the bagel away and reaches for his hand. "But, he's gonna be ok, right Daddy?" The thought of a world without her dad was making Rachel sick to her stomach.

"I hope so Pumpkin, I really really hope so." Henry doesn't cry but his voice breaks in the middle of the sentence and it's one of the saddest things Rachel's ever heard. Her guilt for leaving him to deal with this all by himself for the last few days won't be denied. It sloshes around in her stomach.

"Daddy I'm…I'm so sorry I didn't come here sooner. I don't know why, I just couldn't do it. Too scared or too…something, I don't know. I'm an awful daughter." She hangs her head low and tears threaten to slip down her cheeks.

Henry is across the table in a flash. He pulls Rachel to him once more, hugging her so tightly it makes it impossible for her to breathe. "Don't say that. Don't ever say that Rachel. You're the best daughter any Dad could ask for. It's not your fault, ok?"

"Ok."

"To be honest, I don't even want you to be here. You don't belong in a place like this Pumpkin. It's too sad."

"But I want to be here for you. I want to help you Dad."

A sad chuckle escapes Henry's lips. "That's not your job, Rachel. Your dad and I are the one's who're supposed to help you, take care of you."

"When are you going to come home?"

"I guess it all depends…" he trails off, neither of them wanting the sentence to finish. "Since things can still go either way at this point I want to stay here for at least the next few days. Would that be ok with you?"

"Of course, don't worry about me." That means a few more days with Quinn. The fact that her heart jumps a little at that makes her feel guilty all over again.

As though her father can read her mind he asks, "by the way, how is staying with Beth and her mom?"

"It's…good. I mean, you know it's far from the best of circumstances right now but Beth has been really great these past few days. She really is a true friend. And Qui…Ms. Fabray has been great as well."

"I'm glad. We're lucky to know such good people."

"Yes, definitely…" Rachel wonders what would happen if her father knew exactly what had been happening the past few days between her and Quinn. The thought makes her cringe.

The next few hours are spent together with her family. She talks to her fathers like always, their conversations falling into the same patterns. The setting is different and Paul can't make any funny commentary or add any insights like he always does but in a fucked up, half-glass full kind of way it still feels like the Berrys are all together once more. When she leaves it's regretfully, Henry practically pushing her out the door. "No," he says, "you're eating real food and sleeping in a real bed tonight. You can come back tomorrow bright an early. I know your Dad wouldn't want it any other way too." They hug goodbye and he kisses her on the top of the head.

As she's walking out the front door her phone rings. Staring at the screen, Rachel watches as Beth's name pops up. She hesitates before answering. How can she continue whatever it is she has going on with Quinn and still be a good friend to Beth? It seems an impossible task since the last thing she wants to do is hurt her best friend or lie to her. But Rachel is selfish. She wants Beth in her life and she just can't help it. Before really making a decision she's pressed talk and the phone is to her ear.

"Hi."

"Rachel, hey!"

"What's up Beth?"

"So a freaking Christmas miracle in April has occurred over here at McKinley and Coach Sylvester actually let us out of practice a little early today. Mom told me you were over at the hospital visiting your Dad so I just wanted to call and say that I can pick you up from there whenever."

"Actually I'm just leaving the hospital now but you don't have to…"

"Say no more, I'll be there in like three minutes."

Beth hangs up the phone before Rachel can get another word of protest in, leaving her to her guilt. Sitting down on a bench outside she hangs her head low in despair. If it's not one thing she's feeling bad about then it's another. She just can't win. Thinking about it logically she knows the best choice would be to end things with Quinn. Without the blonde complicating everything she could go back to at least a semblance of her old life. She could concentrate all her energy on her father and his hopeful recovery and not have to worry about what an awful best friend she's being to Beth. But even as the though finishes she has a rebuttal. First of all, her life before kissing Quinn had been it's own brand of carved out misery and going back to that would be a truly torturous act. And then there's the fact that the "thing" with Quinn doesn't even have a name yet. It's just a fledgling of what could be and Rachel doesn't have the heart to stamp it out. Not when Quinn is the only person she wants.

The sight of Beth's silver Altima stops her thoughts. She beeps the horn once causing Rachel to stand up and begin walking over. As she nears the car she notices someone in the front seat and another in the back. Frowning slightly she opens the backdoor next to the free seat and gets in. Her suspicions are confirmed as Santana and Brittany stare at her.

"Hey Rach," Beth waves from the driver's seat. "So, how is he?" She looks concerned which almost erases Rachel's irritation at the two other Cheerio's presence.

"Hi Rachel!" Brittany waves animatedly a huge grin on her face.

"Hey…Berry." It's not exactly the friendliest hello but coming from Santana it's the equivalent of a bear hug and two pecks on the cheek.

"Um, he's ok I guess, still unconscious. They still aren't sure what's going to happen. If it's ok with you I'd rather not talk about it right now." She means in front of Santana and Brittany but feels bad being unable to convey that point without being so obvious.

Beth's posture goes rigid and she bits her lip a little. "Of course, of course, sorry." She notices Rachel's gaze shifting between the two other girls in the car. "Oh! Yeah, so I thought that since the past week has been really heavy for you we could have a girl's night, Cheerio-styel. It is a Friday after all. San and Britt are gonna come and sleepover at my place. We can just hang out, watch movies, eat junk food, maybe drink a little wine. What do you think?"

Friday. Rachel had completely forgotten it was a weekday. Good thing she was sort of suspended anyways. She focuses on Beth's hopeful grin. She's really not up for a girl's night but loves Beth for trying. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. "Ok, yeah that sounds great." She forces a smile.

"Sweet!" Beth does a fist pump before starting the car. The drive to her house is casual, the conversation peppered with commentary about the latest Cheerio practice and the last rehearsal in New Directions. The whole time Rachel wants to ask Brittany what happened to her last night at Breadstix but she doesn't want to draw any attention to it. However, by the time they pull into the driveway she's resolved that the blonde had genuinely forgotten and decides she can't be mad at her, especially considering how the night turned out.

The four of them file into the house. Quinn is sitting on the couch in the living room. Rachel is the first to enter and when she looks up the blonde gives her this earth-shattering smile that practically knocks her over. She falters, causing Santana to bump into her from behind. "Watch it Man-…I mean, Berry. You should maybe look out where you're going or something…"

"S-sorry Santana." Rachel's eyes regretfully leave Quinn's. If she was surprised to see the other girls it doesn't show. Her smiles is a little less bright now, Rachel thinks, but still breathtaking.

"Hi Rachel, Santana, Brittany. Beth how was practice?"

"Awesome, we actually go out early. By the way Mom, is it cool if Santana and Brittany stay over? We're doing a girl's night."

"Yes, that'd be fine with me."

"Cool, thanks."

"Yeah thanks for letting me and Britts stay over Ms. F."

"Of course Santana, anytime."

Ms. F? Rachel thought that all of Beth's friends called her mom Quinn. Maybe not? She made a mental note to ask Quinn about it later. Though, who knows when that'll be. It's the weekend now so Beth will probably want to hang out non-stop in an attempt to make her feel better. If only she knew that the best medicine for her right now would be one-on-one time with her mom…

Girl's night actually turns into a pretty fun event. They raid Beth's kitchen for all the snacks and steal a few bottle of wine from the liquor cabinet. "Won't your mom notice?" Rachel wonders aloud.

Beth shrugs it off. "Probably. I'll deal with that later. No Cheerios girls night is complete without a good bottle of wine…or two."

They watch _Zoolander_, which leaves all four of them in stitches and devoting a good chunk of time to each perfecting their versions of blue steel. Hanging out with Brittany and Santana turns out to be more fun than expected. Brittany really is a sweetheart and for reasons Rachel doesn't understand the blonde is completely determined to befriend her. Santana, strangely enough, is actually being almost nice to her. It's weird and makes her more than a little uncomfortable but Rachel has to admit that it's a much-preferred alternative to her hostility.

Somehow as many sleepovers do, things boil down to an intense game of truth or dare. A bottle of wine deep, all of the girls have shrugged off any inhibitions and are all lounging lazily on Beth's carpeted floor. When Beth asks for a truth Santana demands an in-depth description of what her drunk hook-up with football player Mike Chang was like. There are details of that story Rachel is never going to be able to erase from her mind. It's Brittany's turn now. She predictably turns to Santana. "San, truth or dare?"

"Dare, definitely." She's staring at Brittany suggestively and Rachel once again has to ask herself how anyone could be blind to their relationship. It's just so obvious.

"Ok then, I want you to kiss and make-up with Rachel. It wasn't cool to be so mean to her when I gave her a ride to school in your car. Rachel's so nice."

"Britt," Santana lowers her voice. "You know I feel bad ok? I AM trying. Have you been paying attention at all tonight?" Suddenly all of her weird behavior makes sense to Rachel.

"No San" Brittany giggle drunkenly. "I KNOW that. I said _kiss_ and make-up."

"Wait you mean…what!" Santana looks like she's going to self-destruct. "You can't be serious Britt. You want me to kiss that...I mean, her?"

Rachel finds herself shaking her head as well. "No way, uh-uh, I really think you should pick a different dare Brittany."

Brittany crosses her arms and shakes her head. "Those are the rules. You have to."

Beth chimes in, clearly enjoying the moment way too much. "Yeah, those ARE the rules you guys." She grins at Rachel wickedly who responds with a death glare."

"No way. I'm not doing it Britt."

"Santana if you don't do this I'm going to stop talking to you…forever. You can't just not follow the rules of truth or dare, it's against the law."

"Britt c'mon," Santana pleads but Brittany turns her head away, ignoring the Latina. "God damn it, seriously? Fine. FINE!"

Before Rachel can truly comprehend what's happening she finds herself swept up by Santana and suddenly the dark-haired girl's lips are pressed against her own. The kiss is a forceful one, fiery and spilling over with frustration but Santana's skilled. God knows she's had enough practice. Her lips are soft and she smells of some exotic kind of perfume. It's nothing like kissing Quinn but Rachel can't say it's the worst thing that's ever happened to her.

"Hey girls, I brought you some popcor…oh." Breaking apart Santana and Rachel look up at the doorway. Quinn is standing there looking completely stunned. Rachel's eyes widen in horror. She wants to explain herself but no words are coming out of her mouth. She can hear Beth chuckling uncontrollably somewhere to her left and Santana grumbling at her side. Bending down Quinn sets the popcorn down on the floor. Their eyes lock but Rachel can't read the hazel gaze. "I'll just leave this here for you all." And in a second she's gone.

The next thing she knows Brittany's arms are around her and Santana's necks pulling their bodies against her. "Yay! I'm so glad you kissed and made up! We can all be friends now!"

Rachel replies with the only word she can think of. "Shit."

Beth is still laughing. "Shit is right. My mom is totally gonna think you're gay now."


	12. Green Eyed

**Author's Note: As always thank you so much for all of your kind words! Some of you were also asking if this story would have a happy ending. To this I honestly say I don't know. I'm kind of just thinking it up as I go. I have no idea about how long it's gonna be or anything. What I do know is that I just LOVE angst. ;) So yeah, the story's gonna continue to have some heavy moments but I'm not against happy moments or endings at all. I'll just have to see how things progress and decide how things end once I get there. Read and Enjoy!**

Rachel had no idea how long fifteen minutes could feel. That's how long it takes for her to slip out of Beth's room. Not wanting to seem strange about it she had stuck around, pretending to care about Brittany being able to put both of her legs behind her head and Beth confessing to having a huge crush on Mr. Schue. Finally, under the guise of needing some water she hastily slips out of the room.

"Hurry up Rach, it'll be your turn again soon!" Beth calls after her.

"Ok!" Taking a deep breath, Rachel takes the stairs two by two as she tries to figure out what she will say to Quinn. She wants to apologize but…what if Quinn doesn't even care? Sure they had "slept" together last night but they hadn't gotten around to talking about what it meant for them. What if Quinn's having second thoughts? What if the blonde is secretly relieved at seeing her and Santana kiss because then she would be off the hook? Rachel stops short of the kitchen, gnawing on her lip as her brow creases with worry. Maybe she shouldn't say anything at all.

Stepping into the kitchen she is silent. Quinn is at the sink, her back to Rachel as she washes dishes. Rachel studies the older woman appreciatively. Her cable knit sweater has ridden up, exposing a small patch of skin at her lower back. Rachel remembers how soft Quinn's skin felt beneath her fingertips and all she wants to do is touch her again. Taking a tentative step forward, Rachel falters again from announcing her presence. What if? What if? What if? She can't stop doubts from plaguing her.

Quinn looks up from her dishwashing and her eyes catch Rachel's in the reflection of the window above the sink. Embarrassed Rachel can't bring herself to move. The blonde doesn't move either or stop what she's doing. The only indication she's seen the younger girl at all is a slight raise of an eyebrow. Rachel can't help but admire that. Quinn is just so cool, so collected most of the time. It's like she has everything figured out. Well…almost everything. The only time she's ever seen that exterior falter is when she's with her. It's something Rachel has come to hold close in the past few days, this special layer of vulnerability that the blonde only peels back for her. She has to wonder if Quinn resents her for it.

Turning off the faucet, Quinn wipes her hands clean on a dishtowel and turns to face Rachel. Her body leans casually against the countertop, hazel eyes never leaving Rachel's. Her expression is calm, deliberately blank and the brunette thinks she would give anything to be able to read her mind. Seconds tick by in silence and it finally feels like too much. "I…I came to get a glass of water." She blurts out. Silently Quinn turns back around, opening a cupboard and taking down a glass. She turns the faucet back on and holds the cup under the stream of water.

Coward, Rachel thinks to herself. She wants to apologize so badly or at the very least bring the kiss up but she's terrified of where the conversation might lead. It all feels so real, looking into those hazel eyes. Suddenly there's so much for her to lose. How did that happen? She hears the faucet shut off again. Quinn turns back around, extending the glass out to her. "I'm sorry, it didn't mean anything," Rachel blurts out. And once she starts, she finds that the words spill out of her quite easily. "You see, I've never been a part of one of these Cheerios girls' nights before but apparently Beth, Santana and Brittany believe that truth or dare is a big component of the night. And Beth also seemed to think that wine was necessary for the night too thought I probably shouldn't be telling you that part. Anyways, I think it's because of the wine that the truths and dares started to get a little…out of hand. And the next thing I know Brittany dares Santana to kiss and make-up with me because she's been quite awful to me in the past. I'm quite sure she thinks the euphemism must be taken literally and she wasn't going to be happy until Santana and I had actually kissed each other and for…reasons that are really nobody's business, Santana wants to stay on Brittany's good side. So, finally Santana snapped and kissed me. Even though, I must say, she is quite skilled it's not something I've ever wanted to experience and definitely don't want to repeat. And you happened to walk in at the most inconvenient time…" Rachel finally pauses to catch her breath.

The whole time Quinn's eyes have never left hers. The blonde sets the glass of water back down the counter. Her gaze wanders down to Rachel's lips and it's only then that Rachel notices the way her hand clenches and unclenches the edge of the counter-top, like she's holding something back. A sigh escapes her lips and she mutters something under her breath that sounds a lot like "screw it" before pushing herself off of the counter. She moves towards Rachel, reaching out and hooking her by the waist, pulling her close. There is complete silence, Rachel barely allowing herself to breathe. Quinn's eyes are so focused, lapping her up with a greedy intensity. It's hard to maintain her gaze in the same way it's hard to stare at the sun for too long. The blonde's free hand reaches out and gently strokes the pad of her thumb down her jaw, sending shivers through Rachel's body. Then gently, deliberately, Quinn kisses her.

Rachel's heart explodes with emotion. Stunned, she finds herself unable to move. This kiss is different from the others, not so much desperate as it is….what's the word? Maybe there isn't one. All she knows is that it seems like Quinn really wants her to feel it. While one hand cups her face, the other grips Rachel's waist, holding her protectively as Quinn pushes her backwards until her back hits the wall of the kitchen. The solid feel of the wall is comforting. Rachel thinks that at the very least now she won't fall over. Tentatively her hands reach out to Quinn's waist, brushing over the belt loops on her jeans before gripping them for extra support.

Closing her eyes, Rachel allows herself to revel in the older woman's touch. Quinn's kisses match her so well. Gentle but strong, quietly passionate in the most graceful way imaginable. The blonde's hand slides from her cheek down to her neck, stopping at her pulse point. Rachel knows it's hammering under her touch. Those devilish lips leave hers and she can't help but let out a small groan of protest, earning a dry chuckle from Quinn. She's not wanting for long though, the lips replacing the hand at her neck. The brunette inhales deeply, tightening her grip on the belt loops. She's quite certain that if she doesn't hold on for dear life she'll float away. Teeth nip tentatively at her skin, making Rachel squirm in the most delightful way. Her body arches into Quinn and she can feel all of the blonde's curves against her. Even with a layer of clothing between them the feeling is addictive.

Quinn feels it too, a whimper escaping her lips as her hand skims down Rachel's body, past the side of her breast, down her rib-cage until it finds the hem of her shirt, slipping under it. Once underneath the hand retraces it's path, slower this time, reveling in the feel of skin. Rachel can do nothing but try and keep herself upright as her stomach twists itself into the most excruciating knots. Her eyes squeeze shut, focusing entirely on Quinn's hand. It makes a lazy trail up her stomach, sliding across the plane of her abdomen with a slow deliberation. At this point Quinn's lips have left her neck. Rachel can't bring herself to look but she imagines the blonde's eyes trained on her, pupils dilated with lust as she focuses intently on the task at hand. Lost in thoughts of Quinn's face Rachel doesn't' even notice that Quinn's hand has worked it's way under her bra until she feels a palm graze over her nipple. Her knees actually do buckle this time but Quinn hold hers up with a steady arm, pinning her more securely to the kitchen wall. A deep moan escapes her lips but Quinn saves her again, kissing her and swallowing the moan whole. The blonde takes advantage of the moment, slipping her tongue between parted lips. Her hand stays where it is, gently cupping the brunette before beginning to move her hand is a slow circular motion.

Nothing that feels this good can be a bad thing. That's the only coherent though Rachel can manage. Her body is trembling, practically spasming under the blonde's touch. Her mind state is somewhere between hazy and euphoric. Any lingering thoughts over whether or not Quinn cares about her seem so stupid now. She's never taken drugs, never had the desire to in the least but she imagines this is how the best drugs must make a person feel, like they're floating high above themselves, above all the pain and sadness and complication that normally weights them down. Quinn's touch takes her away from all of it.

Rachel wants to, needs to make Quinn feel the same way. Her own hands finally release the belt loops. Shakily they slide up under Quinn's shirt and over velvety skin. Winding around to Quinn's back she traces the slight grooves of the blonde's muscles thinking only of what a perfect specimen the woman truly is. Quinn eyes flutter shut at the touch. She breaks their kiss and bows her head against Rachel's shoulder as she takes long, labored breaths.

"It's so strange" she says, turning her head to speak softly into Rachel's ear. "I haven't felt jealousy over someone in a long time but seeing you kissing Santana… I couldn't handle it. It felt like I had been set on fire."

Rachel's face breaks out into a wide smile, her brown scrunching at she shakes her head. Quinn Fabray is the jealous type? She hadn't thought that a confident, beautiful woman like her even knew the meaning to the word. It was almost too adorable for her to handle. She places a kiss in Quinn's golden hair rubbing circles against her back. "You don't have to be jealous. There's only one person that I want to be with."

Her words seem to breathe new life into the older woman because she finds herself being kissed once more. Quinn's hands now slide from her breasts down her body, leaving a trail of chills in their wake. She stops at her stomach, though her fingers still slip dangerously close to her pajama bottoms. It seems they've reached an impasse. Rachel wants to scream at her to keep going, guide her hands lower with her own, something, anything to bring attention to the heated center of her body. But Quinn is clearly struggling. The blonde pulls back, her eyes meeting Rachel's pointedly. "I…I don't know…"

Don't know what? Rachel thinks. It should be simple shouldn't it? They're just two people who want each other. Nothing complicated about that, She thinks that maybe Quinn just needs some encouragement. Rachel slides her hands out from under Quinn's shirt. She's about to place them over Quinn's when the sound of footsteps thundering down the stairs bring them both back to reality. Rachel feels like she's about to have a heart attack. Quinn is across the room in seconds but not before Rachel sees the fear in her eyes. Quickly she sits down at the kitchen table. She just needs to act natural and everything will be fine, she tells herself. For someone who wants to be on Broadway someday this should be easy.

Beth bursts into a kitchen, out of breath from rushing down the stairs. Turning to Rachel she pulls Rachel's chair out a few inches. "Rach what the hell? You've been down here forever."

"Oh…really? I had no idea. I've just been you know, talking to your mom."

"Ew, why?" Beth looks from Rachel to Quinn. "Sorry Mom, you know what I mean."

"Beth you better not be down here to get more wine. Two bottles is too much already. Don't think you're going to get off the hook for that."

"Ughh did you tell her Rachel?"

"What? No I didn't mean…"

"Beth, darling, you seem to be under the extremely incorrect impression that all adults are idiots. Let me tell you, this isn't the case. Rachel didn't have to tell me anything. The only reason I didn't say anything is because I wanted you girls to have a little fun. It's been a really hard week."

"Whatever Mom, can you pleeease save whatever punishment you have for me until tomorrow? Just let us have this one night and I swear I'll do anything you tell me without any complaints."

"I highly doubt that but ok." Quinn gives her daughter a small smile.

"Yes! Thanks Mom. C'mon Rach, the night is still young! Brit is gonna teach us dance moves." Beth pulls Rachel up out of the chair and drags her from the room, the brunette getting one last glimpse at the blonde before returning upstairs. Why did there always have to be something between them? Why did it have to be something as big and important as Beth?

Rachel really puts her acting skills to the test that night feigning interest in Beyonce dance moves and multiple rounds of 'Never Have I Ever.' When Beth finally passes out and Brittany and Santana decide they want to go to bed it's all Rachel can do to restrain herself from jumping for joy.

"Brits and I are gonna go freshen up in the bathroom, k?" Santana takes the blonde's hand and guides her out of the room.

Sighing Rachel, picks up the stray kernels of popcorn off of Beth's bed before sliding a pillow under her head and covering her with a blanket. Smoothing the sable hair out of her friend's face Rachel watches her sleep for a second.

"I'm sorry Beth," she says quietly. No matter what she does there's always going to be some part of things that are wrong. She wants Quinn more than anything but after the way they both had to hide from Beth in the kitchen. It was awful. Turning away she tries tidying up the room as best she can just to be doing something.

It feels like a while has passed so Rachel goes out into the hall. She's at the door to the bathroom when she notices it slightly ajar. Poised to knock she suddenly hears whispers coming from the other side. Glancing upwards she can see inside through the sliver in the door, her brown eyes widening. Brittany is perched on the counter next to the sink. Her legs and arms are wrapped around Santana and they're kissing. It's not particularly explicit but Rachel is still shocked. Hearing about them hooking up all the time and then seeing it for herself are two different things entirely. They stop kissing, Santana pulling away but still looking at Brittany. Her smile is wide and her eyes are sparkling. Rachel's never seen her look like that before. Brittany is looking at the Latina with a similar gaze. Rachel smiles and shakes her head. They really do belong together. Maybe some people just fit.

Quietly she walks back down the hall, turning into the guest room. She paces the room back and forth for a few minutes. She wants to fit with Quinn so badly. She thinks, knows that the same way Brittany and Santana make each other blissfully happy, Quinn is only person that can do that for her. She hears the two girls exit the bathroom, giggling as they re-enter Quinn's room and shut the door behind them.

It's then that she makes up her mind. Leaving the guest room she tip-toes her way down the hall, all the way to the end. Pausing at the door she knocks quietly. After a few seconds she hears Quinn's muffled voice on the other side. "Come in?" Rachel lets herself in and shuts the door quietly behind her.

The room is dark. She can only just make out the shape of a bed in front of her and a figure sitting up on the right side of it. "It's Rachel," she says, though it's kind of obvious already. Without waiting for a reply she climbs up on the bed, crawling until she's straddling the blonde's legs over the covers. It's the bravest thing she's done in quite sometime and it takes all the nerve she has to keep herself rooted to the spot. "I know things are messed up, ok? I do. Beth is so important. I don't really want to talk about her though. I don't want to talk about anything. I just, I know I want to be with you. We fit." Leaning forwards she seeks out Quinn's lips in the darkness and gives her a quick peck.

"We…fit?"

"Yes, that's what I've decided. Like puzzle pieces. That's all I wanted to tell you. Well, that and I…" At this part she hesitates, shyness finally taking hold. She's never been this vulnerable with anyone. A deep breathe helps to soothe her nerves. "…I don't want to sleep alone." She rolls off of Quinn, curling up on the other side of the bed, not sure what to do.

Quinn says nothing. She doesn't have to. She just reaches out and pulls Rachel to her, mimicking their same sleeping positions from last night. Feeling Quinn's arms around her again sends warmth shooting through her entire body. She snuggles into the blonde and allows her eyes to fall shut. The last though she has before drifting off to sleep is that they really do fit perfectly like puzzle pieces.


End file.
